#have the ending of a fic ya'll

[frostyalice]

*kicks fic into the void*

has it really been *looks at clipboard* almost 3 years since posting a jalice fic??? yes. am i as active as i was then? absolutely not. is this completely random considering the answer to those two questions? yes. anyway! i am officially throwing this bit of fic i had started writing into the void. i didn't realize i had 2k of it written but the following part is what i had planned to be the ending/what really inspired it

context!/summary: nomadic jasper au. Alice has been living with the cullens on her own for a while. Jasper has long since split from charlotte and peter. He stumbles across a small town with an unusually high (living) body count considering there's 4+ vampires residing there. never feels good enough to approach but soon he and alice are having their own little forest clearing visits. he knows she knows an uncanny amount about him. but still hasn't shown his face or introduced himself. until now

He’s standing in his usual tree; high enough that a human would never spot him, and with enough branch covering that he felt a little sense of protection from Alice.

Alice, who’s currently prattling on about her day, telling him how she had had the funniest visions of a guy named Mike Newton get shot down by a girl named Lauren.

Suddenly, her eyes lose focus a little and he loses his emotional read on her. It had freaked him out at first; she essentially disappeared to him. But he’s used to it now, even though his eyes do a quick sweep for any potential dangers. She comes to with a smile that seems mostly to herself.

“Anyway, I do believe it’s time for me to head back,” she says abruptly. Jasper frowns, never liking the thought of her leaving him to go back to that coven of vampires. “I’m sure you’ve already figured it out,” she interrupts, “but I just realized I’ve never formally introduced myself.” The small vampire is correct. He figured out all their names within a day of stumbling across their strange house. Still, he appreciates the sentiment of introducing oneself.

“I’m Alice Cullen,” she announces cheerfully, as seemed to be her default mood. “I’d love for you to introduce yourself, too.” A small frown graces her lips, and Jasper feels a twinge of shame at having been the one to put it there, even if done so indirectly. “Maybe one day you’ll do me the honor.”

She turns to leave, like every other day, never expecting anything from him. And Jasper, he has had enough of this hiding.

“Jasper,” he finds himself saying before he can second guess it. He takes his time descending branches in what he hopes is a graceful, non-scary manner. “My name is Jasper Whitlock.”

He doesn’t know what to expect, but it sure isn’t what happens next. The small vampire holds out her hand and smiles a smile so bright it’d put the sun to shame.

“I know. You’ve kept me waiting a long time.”

Clearly having lost all reason, he advances so he’s just a foot away from her. She still doesn’t flinch.

“My apologies, ma’am.”

Hand still extended, he knows this is one of those moments. One he’ll remember for the rest of his existence. She doesn’t react when he places his scar covered hand in her clean, petite one.

With a feeling of happiness stronger than he’d ever experienced and a warm feeling he wasn’t quite sure he knew a word for enveloping him, she starts to lead him towards the house.

And for the first time in nearly a century, he feels a feeling he’s never felt before.

Hope.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

"Probably because they don't have a grave," Danny said, pulling out his vape. "Final resting places are--HEY!"

Nightwing held the pilfered vape above his head. "Where did you get this?" he asked, scandalized.

Danny jumped for it, but Nightwing was too tall! Even at 5'7 he'd have to use his powers to reach the vape; he had no chance as a 9 year old. "We're in Gotham! You're lucky I didn't get cocaine instead!"

[nottoonedin]

"AU where Ivan is alive" this "Fic where Ivan and Till are saved by the Rebels" that..

Where are all the fics where Sua is alive/saved by the rebels with Mizi? ¿Dónde? ¿Dónde están??

[ccasey0]

alright, this isn’t related to HBT at all, but I like it too much not to share. so, say hello to the Spirit Au!!

starting with Casey, The Spirit of the Night.

I’ve got more drawings of him since he’s my fav to draw. Now for his lore!!

Casey lived his whole life in service of The Celestial in the Spirit Tree. He loved Celestial, and devoted his everything to Them. The Celestial is the master of the spirits. The God of gods. The highest of high. He is the one who creates spirits. And Casey was soon to become one. Everyone knows that Celestial was planning on appointing spirits for the Day and the Night. And Casey and his twin were the top options. They were closer than ever. They were never apart. They did everything together. But Casey was the one who worked hardest to earn Celestial’s approval. He worked so hard to be chosen for the spirit of the Day. The most important. The sun, the light, the bringer of life and happiness. But when the time came, and Celestial was choosing who would be which spirit, all that work went to waste. It was all for nothing. Because they chose Dellta. They chose her over him. She never did anything to deserve that. Of course Casey loved his twin. But Dellta was the one who relaxed all day. Played in favor of working. Acted like everything was fine and that they had all they could ever want. But Celestial chose her anyway. Why? Why not him? After everything he did for them, all the hard work, all the hours of labor, all the time he spent trying to please them. Was it all for nothing? His sister was overjoyed, but all Casey could feel was anger and despair. And then Celestial made him the spirit of the Night. The moon, the darkness, the bringer of death and sorrow. The least liked. Casey knew that some people down on earth worshiped the moon, but those people were the poor and the weak. The smallest of villages. And it wasn’t even power that Casey wanted. It was just that he had done everything he could for Celestial, only for them to completely disregard him. He hates that. He hates Celestial. He might have even hated Dellta and her joyful smile at that moment.

Also Casey Sketches!!

Oke, now for Dellta! I only have one drawing of her for now, but I definitely want to draw her some more.

Lore time!!!

Dellta had always been the happier of the twins. She played more with the other immortals and spirits while her brother worked to please the Celestial. She knew how important Celestial was, but she didn’t see why Casey had to put all his time towards making them favor him. And she never expected to be chosen for the spirit of the Day. Celestial just gave the role to her. Which meant she had somehow become his favorite. After that, she started doing just what her brother had been doing. Following the Celestial around in her free time and doing things for them to make their view of her even better. She also loved being worshipped. She really enjoyed all the offerings and gifts she received from the humans. And she loved making them all super excited when she sent them a little sign or a gift in return. She was certainly more enthusiastic about being worshipped by the mortals than her brother. She guessed that he just didn’t like the fact that all their offerings were either sacrifices or charms or the occasional food basket. Plus, he had become much quieter and distant ever since the ceremony. Dellta didn’t know why. He had become a spirit, just like he wanted. Was he hoping for something else. She didn’t know. But whenever she asked, he avoided the questions and brushed her off, pushing her further and further away. While they still did almost everything together and they were still extremely close, Casey just started to want to be alone more often and he refused to explain why. He still smiled, but not as often. He still hugged her, but they became shorter. He still loved her, and she still loved him. But he had changed. And there was nothing Dellta could do about it. She couldn’t figure out why he had become like this, he just had. But she stopped caring after a while. She just started putting her attention towards her worshippers when Casey didn’t want to talk to her.

I don’t have any extra drawings of Dellta, but I have a picture of the mountain!

The giant tree in the middle is the Spirit Tree, which serves as the bridge between the earth and the sky. The mountain is famous for being the largest and most spiritual mountain because that’s where the immortals all gather. Also, the city shown is the Foot Clan. They worship the Spirit of the Day, aka Dellta. Although they get a few things wrong about her. Like how they think that Dellta and Casey are the “Lovers of the Sky”. Casey is worshipped by the Hamato clan, which is in the other side of the mountain. Their village is much smaller and poorer than the Foot, but they know more about the spirits and have connections with a few of them. The Hamato Clan mains are The turtles(but in older form, around 20-23), Splinter(the elder/leader of the village and the most connected with the spirits), usagi(because I can), and april(one of the few humans in the hamato village), and Junior(my version Casey Jones in the au. i just called him Junior since two Caseys would be confusing. also one of the few humans in the hamato village.). The hamato clan is also the only village that is home to mostly yokai and a few humans, while the foot only consist of humans. Also in this Au the turtles aren’t the sons of splinter, just his pupils. They are also all yokai, including splinter. The hamato clan mostly gives blood sacrifices of normal animals and sometimes bowls of blood from people cutting their hands and dropping some of their blood into the bowl since the Night Spirit is supposed to be closely connected to death. Although they also have plenty of shrines with statues and a TON of charms. Charms are a very big thing for the hamato, and they are supposed to hold prayers. Casey is technically supposed to collect the charms at the end of the week during the night and turn the prayers into stars for the people who made them, but he doesn’t like going so close to the village. Also because when he first went down there he found that they had left a dead sheep for him and he hated it. So, for fear he might find more dead things, he didn’t go back there again. Sometimes he will find small charms hung up all over trees that have mushrooms on them and he absolutely loves them. Although he’ll never admit it and he leaves the charms there. Because of this, the hamato people have begun to lose faith in splinter because he is the one constantly telling them to believe in the Night Spirit. Even the turtles have started questioning the spirits, especially donnie who was already skeptical in the first place. not mikey though. he still believes just as much as Splinter. The foot clan, however, all are VERY serious about their faith in the spirits. they have a huge temple dedicated purely for the Day Spirit, and also worship some other spirits too. even the Night Spirit. although Casey doesn't like them either since they also give blood sacrifices, with no charms too! Dellta, on the other hand, loves to go down and see the humans in the Foot. She'd always been fond of sparring, so when she first saw that they Foot were very centered around fighting she was ecstatic and loved watching them train in the grounds in the center of the city. although she had to stay hidden the whole time since she was only supposed to show herself to the people on special events. also, the only time she went to the Hamato clan was during the total solar eclipse since that's when the twins are supposed to go to their opposite villages and use magic to put their symbol on the banners of their opposite representation(sun on the moon banner, moon on the sun banner for example).

anyways, I hope you like this! if you can't tell, this will be mostly centered around the Hamato Clan and Casey. i hope to be able to make more art of this cause it is SO. MUCH. FUN. to draw these guys and build more of the story. i've already got so many ideas for angst floating around in my head, as well as ideas for when Mikey meets Casey for the first time.

also this is very much inspired by Quilt Au by @cokoweee :)

[nattyontherun]

since i've been quiet around here, thought i'd liven things up with a WIP!

[alygator77]

ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony - mlist ᰔ

ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader

ꨄ summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.

ꨄ︎status. ongoing

ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, slow burn, smut, fluff, bit of angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex, some triggers of domestic abuse (it is emotional but it can be a bit suggestive/interpreted as physical, note this is from naoya not satoru)

ꨄ︎ words: currently 67k

ꨄ︎ a/n. hello ya'll, my name is aly and if you read my fic thank you so much from the bottom of my heart! this story really hit the ground running, originally it was a request from a lovely anon ♡ and apparently i cannot write short fics for the life of me because it turned into something big lol, halp.. i'm unsure how many chapters it will have because i am just seeing where the inspiration takes me :') i will update tags/warnings as the story progresses. thanks for reading <3 (also this will have a happy ending)

ꨄ︎ taglist: closed (ao3)

ꨄ series tags #mhm #motherhood and matrimony

♬︎ playlist

ꨄ︎ chapters

ch 1 // circumstances and commitments

ch 2 // under the spotlight

ch 3 // fractured realities

ch 4 // shadows of doubt

ch 5 // a leap of faith

ch 6 // drenched in truth

ch 7 // pending..

[baby-yongbok]

Don't Go Insane

Neighbor!Bang Chan x afab!Reader

✧Genre - Smut ✧Warnings: Unprotected piv (Wrap it up ya'll) ✧ Masterlist ✧

A/N: I have never ever written a fic in this format but it was the only was for my brain to process the idea😭This is a product of those fucking SINFUL photos that Chan took for Nylon Japan. I'm sorry if it sucks, I'm trying to get back into writing again so I might suck for a bit, sorry! Hope you enjoy! (not proofread)

You weren't expecting to actually like your new neighbor since your previous one was such a dick but when you meet Chan he's more than kind to you. 

He always greets you in the hallway, helping you bring your bags up to your place when you get home from shopping and checks in on you when he hasn't seen you for a couple of days

You find yourself going out around the same time that he would usually get home from his morning workout just so you can talk to him. He's so sweet and charming and hot. Oh so hot. 

He brings you food when he's made too much dinner to fit in his fridge which is code for he wanted an excuse to talk to you and gave you 50% of his meal just to see your face. 

You invite him in to eat the first time that he brings you food and it quickly turns into spending Sunday nights eating together and laughing at his stories. It's your favorite day of the week now. 

You drop by his place to ask if he needs anything from the store every time that you go now. He's memorized the pattern of your knock and jumps to his feet every time he hears it. 

You're in line at the store one day when a magazine catches your eye. Is that…Chan!? You grab it, looking through with wide eyes before buying it and nearly forgetting about the rest of your items. 

You don't tell him that you saw it. He never said what he did for work and yeah he's hot - Oh so hot - but you never thought that this would be his occupation and you defiantly didn't think that this is how you'd find out.

You flip through the magazine all night. Staring at his beautiful chocolate gaze and his perfectly blushed lips. How is he even real?

You may have also stared at his shirtless pics for an hour too long. No one has to know that though.

He brings over a new recipe that he tried this Sunday. Setting up your usual spot on the living room floor when his eyes land on a familiar photo on your side table. It's him. You bought his magazine? He tries to act normal about it but his red ears and blushed cheeks give him away. 

You catch on when he glances at it for a second time and you internally body slam yourself for forgetting to put it away. You both eat quietly, blushing and trying to find the right thing to say next. 

“I'm sorry about that.” You speak first and he glances up quickly, straightening himself up with a shy smile. “It's fine, I'm just embarrassed I guess.” He's shy about being hot?? Why does that make him hotter?

“Are you always the shy type?” Your question was genuine but your tone was suggestive, almost teasing. It creates a shift in his demeanor that makes you shiver. “Not always, no.”

You don't know how it happened. It's all a blur. One second he was talking to you, confident and sweet. He was telling you about the shoot for the magazine when he got to the topic of the shirtless photos. The air around you thickened and the words that started it all slid off your tongue.

“You look so good it could drive me insane.” You chuckled but his eyes darkened in response. 

“Do you want me to?” His eyes are on yours, his gaze is heavy and intense. “What?” You drop your fork, swallowing hard. “Make you go insane?”

That's how you ended up with his lips on yours. He swallowed each and every strangled moan and replaced it with one of his own. His hands explored your body, fast yet cautious. A gentleman.

He pulls you into his lap, one of his large palms gripping your ass over your leggings and the other cupping your cheek to keep you still for him. He pulls you close, chest to chest. He's been waiting to feel you since the moment he first saw you. He feels like he's dreaming and he prays that he never wakes up. 

His breathing picks up when you plant sloppy kisses along his jawline. Mind numbing groans and hisses falling from his lips. “You're gonna make me go insane, fuck.”

His lips feel like heaven against your skin. Soft and all-consuming. He leaves marks along your collar bones, sucking and flicking his tongue over the delicate skin. Your head is spinning as you take him in. This beautiful man that you've been dreaming of for months finally has his hands on you. 

You grind against him, his fingers digging into your hips as he presses up into you. The way that he looks up at you with his lip caught between his teeth is intoxicating. “You're so fucking beautiful.” He smiles at your compliment, blinking a blush away and trying to keep his composure. “Took the words right outta my mouth.”

You pull back, sitting on the shaggy rug and frantically undressing. You're desperate, antsy, absolutely insatiable and Chan isn't too far behind but you could never tell by how composed he looks. How does he have that much self control?

He moves to sit on the couch and watches you as you strip. Taking in every beautiful inch of your body while he makes himself comfortable. You look up at him as he sits, man spreading at the edge of your couch and giving you the perfect view of his aching cock straining against his jeans. 

Fucking sinful

"Crawl to me, baby. Come here." He beckons you with two fingers that you're dying to be acquainted with. The smile on his face while you follow his order is enough to make you explode already.

He leans forward, cupping your face and kissing you with such soft hunger. So much passion and desire. A promise, like his kiss is asking you to be his. You palm him softly over his jeans earning a soft moan from him. "You want it?” He leans back, resting against the back of your sofa, giving you full access to his zipper and button. “Go ahead, take it, princess."

His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he watches you free his cock and his eyes roll back when you fist it confidently. Pumping him at a deliciously slow place. You want to drag this out. You don't ever want this to end. 

He puts his hand over yours once he gets fed up with your teasing. He loves how your hand feels around him but he needs more of you. He taps his leaking cock against your lips and you allow your spit to dribble down his shaft. "Stick that tongue out. There we go, baby. That's my girl. Look at that.”

He holds your hair back as you slide his length into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him. His fingers massage your scalp softly making you hum around him. He's a gentleman, a filthy one. 

He couldn’t wait to switch places with you, falling to his knees so fluidly that you couldn’t help but to groan at the sight of him. His gaze never left yours. His eyes were constantly asking for permission to continue and you eagerly granted it every time.

He ate your pussy like a fucking starved man. Lick and sucking the expanse of your cunt like he’d never see you again. Your moans encouraged him as he lapped at you, he wanted - no, needed - you to cum on his tongue. It’s all that he’s been dreaming of for the last month. 

He made you cum twice and had to hold back the urge to keep going. He’s definitely found his new favorite thing.

Nevermind, kissing you is his favorite thing. The way that you sigh into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue and biting his bottom lip drives him wild. 

You’re seeing stars as soon as he slips into you. His strong arms on either side of your head as he hovers, kissing you softly as you adjust to him. “Fuck, you’re a dream come true, ya know that? I’ve dreamt of this, princess.” You can hardly reply once he fills you to the hilt but you try to anyway, moaning out as your vision blurs. “Wanted you so bad, Channie.”

That was enough to break him. He snapped his hips into you, giving you everything that you ever wanted, ever needed, from him. He fucks you deep, speeding up gradually just to hear you moan his name a little louder. He wants to be gentle with you but with a cunt that feels this amazing he can’t help but want to make you fall apart underneath him.

You always imagined being on top when you finally got to be with Chan but it looks like that’ll have to be another day. The way that his cock is splitting you open makes you feel like you might have to call out of work tomorrow. 

“Look at me, babygirl. You liked seeing my pictures, huh? Did you touch this pretty cunt while looking at them?” You nod your head with such urgency that you’re positive that you look absolutely pathetic but Chan thinks that it’s cute, he’s in love with how fucked out you look drooling under him. “All you had to do was ask for the real thing.” He rolls his hips into you and your eyes roll back right after. 

He holds both of your hands as he slows down a bit, he wants to make love to you. Wants to treat you like the precious gem that he knows that you are but your cunt keeps fucking squeezing around him. He curses under his breath as he tries to compose himself but it’s no use. He watches as he disappears inside of you, groaning when he sees just how perfectly your pussy is taking him. “You’re gonna make me cum, baby. You’re too much. Too good.” 

Much to his surprise you cave before he does, chanting his name like a prayer while he rocks into you at the perfect angle. You feel dizzy as you unravel under him, nails digging into his strong arms and your legs wrapping around his waist in a desperate attempt to feel grounded. 

The way that you look cumming on his cock drives him over the edge. He picks up the pace, fucking you through your orgasm while he’s chasing his. The overstimulation draws out your climax causing a new wave of pleasure to hit you harder than the last. “Yeah yeah yeah, oh fuck such a pretty girl cumming on my cock like that, that's it baby.” He doesn’t even know what he’s saying but he doesn’t care he’s so close so so so close.

You forced your eyes open when he pulled out, you needed to watch him stroke himself over the edge and cover your stomach in his cum. You need to take in the way his eyes squeeze shut and his brows furrow while he moans for you. “Oh fuck fuck fuck.”

The giggles that you share after may be Chan’s new favorite part. He cleaned you up and wrapped his arms around you. Pressing kisses to your hair as you both talk about what just happened with smiles on your faces 

“This is a bit backwards but uh, can I take you out? Maybe next weekend?” The butterflies in your stomach go crazy as you blush into his chest, nodding happily and answering with a muffled ‘yes’ that makes Chan chuckle. “Maybe afterward I can fuck the sense back into ya, since I drove you insane tonight.”

[hiddenlife-manager]

I CANT STOP THINKING OF SMUT FIC IDEAS

ok hear me out lando and the reader are kind of like sneaky links and lando gets back to monaco and texts the reader “can i sleep over” and then the reader says yes. And then when lando gets to her house their kind of flirty but the reader is playing hard to get and instead of bringing him to her bedroom she just says the guest rooms clean and then closes her bedroom door on him lol. but then in the middle of the night lando comes into her room and is like “i can’t sleep” and then the reader gives in and they fuckkk

Lando Norris X Fem Reader

cw… pussy rubbing, teasing, slight plot, not edited, dom lando, hella confident lando, FWB, creampie, emotions, wall sex, quick and hard, etc...

notepad… YALL I love this one def was last minute. I was so busy today. But still I won't be taking request until I finish what I have. So my request will be temporary for some time. I hope ya'll don't mind just trying to finish what I have for everyone.

You looked at the phone quietly, unsure of how to respond. It has been some time since you saw Lando, and you needed him badly. But you also knew that coming straight up and saying that you needed him would cause him to bully you hard. You two were not in a relationship; you knew that, and he knew that, yet you two constantly fucked with no strings attached.

“Fine.” You found yourself texting back, clearly trying to hide the excitement you held for him to come over. You knew what you two would end up doing; you wanted him to wait; you wanted him to think that you two were friends and nothing more; and your desire for him was truly nonexistent, even if in your head you desired him with all your heart. 

Minutes passed, anxious for his arrival, until finally Lando knocked at your door to your large apartment. You rapidly got up from the couch, ignoring the fact that minutes ago your leg bounced, waiting for his arrival. You walked to the door and smiled, seeing his smirk. He grabbed your waist and pulled you in.

“Hey beautiful.” He whispered to you, leaning down to kiss your lips right as he was about to reach your plush lips. You moved your head, causing him to kiss your collarbone. You smiled; you wanted him to need you desperately. 

“Welcome back to Monaco, Lando.” You walked into your apartment, and he followed suit, still left stunned at your actions. He sat down on your couch, his legs opening while he tapped at his thighs. You sat on his thighs, and he held you close. 

“Now what was that? Hiding something beautiful?” He grabbed your chin, making you look at him, and shrugged innocently.

“What do you mean? I am not hiding anything.” You giggled out, his sigh being heard right next to you. Clearly, he is still unaware of your plans, and you smiled. The entire night, you were on his lap, rubbing his cock, flirting with him, and avoiding his kisses. You were leading him until it was finally time to go to sleep. 

“Your room, like always?” He questioned you, holding your hands tight around your waist. You knew he was hard, and you had to play him like a fiddle. 

“You said you were staying over; take the guest bedroom. I need my bed for myself.” You got off his lap and walked off while he watched you walk off. He groaned his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing and swallowing his saliva. He needed you, and you were playing a stupid game.

You made it to your room, shutting the door and smirking, your body leaning against the door. You were getting what you wanted. You two were friends with benefits; of course you wanted to play with him; he played with you; it was only fair you did the same. You walked through your room, stripping your clothes off to put on your pajamas, until you heard the door opening behind you. You tried to cover yourself with your robes after seeing Lando walk in. 

“Can’t sleep.” He smirked, raising his hands up as if you were holding a gun to him. His eyes scanned your body, which made him fucking insane. 

“Bullshit I just left; I bet you haven’t even stepped foot in my guest bedroom.” He shrugged, walking over to you, his hands laid down on your hips. 

“Guilty as charged.” He looked at you; his hands grabbed your face and forcefully kissed you. Your eyes were left wide in shock. The two of you fell onto your bed. He desired this kiss more than anything. He groaned into the kiss, his hands lowering down to your robes, taking it off your shoulder. "Beautiful, you had your fun; now it is my turn.” 

His hands traveled down to your legs, opening them to see your soaking cunt. He placed his fingers on his lips, sucking them and taking it out of his mouth with a pop. He placed his warm fingers on your clit causing you to react with a quick gasp. His fingers make circular figures slowly on your needy clitoral area. 

“No matter how much you hide it, you want me.” He rubbed your clit slowly and eventually raised the pace. You tried to hold back your moans, not wanting to show him your desire, but your cunt showed a different story. Soaking wet from his kiss and his touch. You were unaware he was going to fuck you. He heard you finally slip moans out, and he stopped, shaking his head.

He pulled your legs to him out of pure instinct; your legs wrapped around his waist when he picked you up. He pressed you against the wall next to your bed. 

“You said you wanted your bed for yourself. So I’ll grant you that wish, beautiful.” With his one hand not holding you, he unzipped his pants. His hard cock coming out was clearly ready to fuck you from your teasing minutes ago. He shoved his cock into your cunt, and immediately grunts could be heard from him. His head is in the nook of your collarbone and neck. Your shock at his entering you made you much tighter. 

“Lan~” You moaned, head back to the wall he was pressing you up against. You felt your body bounce on his cock, moving your ass up and down. You grabbed onto his neck tightly, gently scratching at the top part of his back. The pleasure becomes too much. It seemed to be minutes before his cock slammed into your soaking cunt. Your back against the wall clearly gets a slight burn from the bouncing, so you choose to ignore the pain and focus on the pleasure. His mouth gently bit into your collarbone, fucking you faster. 

His pace quickened, feeling his cock twitch inside your tight pussy. This position and your pussy made him go feral. You asked for it while playing this game. If you let him fuck you the moment he arrived, you two would have been making love, and right now he is simply fucking you as if you were his. With each thrust, he slowly got to the realization that he desired to fuck you every day, not just any time he was back home. He needed you to be around him all day; he wanted to hear your laugh and be the focus of your teasing. 

“Fuck ‘bout to make me cum!” He moaned next to you, pressing you harder against the wall and slamming his cock into your pussy faster than before. You were left moaning, a smile present on your face, holding him tighter than ever. You were clearly winded by him moaning and saying his name loudly. That was until you felt yourself close to climaxing. You moaned out, telling him so, and he smirked, kissing your lips to shut you up. At last, his final thrust came in, and he felt his legs get weak from the feeling. He groaned into the kiss, still thrusting in your spasming pussy cumming from being filled up by him. “Beautiful, how about I stay the night?” He knew what he wanted, and now he wanted you.

[pastafossa]

"Do I Need To Beg?" (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic) 🔥

Right so like a lot of other people, I saw that leaked trailer and had thots, mostly about Matt's new beard, and much like my thoughts on his coat, none of these thots are pure. This is pure fucking sin, in other words, one of the filthier things I've written, so scroll past if that's not your thing. Also thank you to my friends over in the Murdock's Tuna Team server, ya'll are the best fucking enablers ever.

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Chapter Summary:

“Welcome home, Mrs. Murdock,” he purred darkly, lazily dragging his tongue across his lips in a way that told you, quite clearly, what he was imagining. “If you need to shower or drink a glass of water, do it now. Because the second you enter this bedroom, you’re mine for the rest of the night. And I have no intention of letting you go until I’ve had my fill.”

Wordcount: 4.1k words

Warnings for this chapter, let's do this: oral f!receiving and a LOT of it like this is literally just a love letter to bearded Matt eating you out (Matt retains his 😺eating crown), brief oral m!receiving, Dom!Matt, Sub!Reader, bondage, overstimulation, subspace, dirty talk, PiV towards the end, Matt's new fucking BEARD none of us are ok

Matt with an oral fixation incoming, here have this:

Your trip out of town had lasted longer than you’d initially expected. 

Initially you'd only planned to be gone for ten days, but ten had abruptly been extended to an irritating fourteen with little notice. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything you could do about it, though Matt had reassured you over the phone that it was fine. While he missed you dearly and would have vastly preferred you back home and in his arms, he understood that things were out of your control. However, he did have one more thing to say before you’d both given your goodbyes, something that wound up eating at you for the rest of your trip in all the best ways. 

“Besides,” he’d murmured. “It’ll give me a little more time to work on my surprise for you.” 

What that surprise was had been a mystery, one he’d smugly refused to reveal no matter how much you’d tried to pry it out of him over the ensuing phone calls. It couldn’t have been a gift for your next wedding anniversary, which was still a few months away. Nor was it your birthday, or Valentine’s Day. As best you could guess, this was just one of those moments when Matt decided to give you something, just because he could, just because he wanted to, no prompting needed. That wasn’t an uncommon occurrence with him, one more thread in the tapestry made from all the many reasons you loved him. 

However, on the list of things you’d expected to find when you finally made it home, you hadn’t thought to include Matt standing shirtless in the bedroom doorway, his sweats slung low on his hips, his hair still damp from his shower. One corner of his mouth curled up into a wicked smirk, and oh, he knew. He knew, or he’d at least suspected what your response would be to his surprise, and you drew in a sharp intake of breath.

He’d grown a beard. 

You raked your gaze over it, taking in the way it seemed to change the angles of his jaw and his face, somehow adding a dangerous edge to his smile. What was more, there were little patches of grey scattered amidst the dark of it. You had no idea why, but something about those threads of silver only added to the building heat between your thighs, a fire that had started the second you’d seen him standing casually in the doorway, his beautiful body on open display just for you. 

How would it feel to touch him, cradle his jaw in your hands now? 

How would it feel when he pressed his lips to yours, to your throat?

And how would it feel as he made his way down, down, down, the rough scrape of his beard lighting you up as he drifted towards one of his favorite places on your body? 

Your shiver drew a rumble of satisfaction from him. He slowly rolled his head back, inhaling deeply, clearly savoring the scent of your arousal. 

“Welcome home, Mrs. Murdock,” he purred darkly, lazily dragging his tongue across his lips in a way that told you, quite clearly, what he was imagining. “If you need to shower or drink a glass of water, do it now. Because the second you enter this bedroom, you’re mine for the rest of the night. And I have no intention of letting you go until I’ve had my fill.”

You were pretty sure you’d never downed a glass of water and gotten into the shower so quick in your life.

Matt kept his promise. The second you stepped out of the bathroom, he was on you, his beard a deliciously unfamiliar sensation as he caught your face between his hands and pressed his mouth hungrily to yours. That wild kiss didn’t stop at just one, your lips separating only to meet again a half-breath later, over and over again. The two of you only grew more frantic with every second that passed, hips beginning to rock, bodies swaying towards each other, until you were both left gasping, frantic and breathless, hands groping desperately across whatever bared skin either of you could reach. 

“Bed.” The word was a low growl against your lips, his hand wound loosely around your throat, one thumb up under the hinge of your jaw to force your head back for him. One of your hands, meanwhile, had slipped back and down beneath the hem of his sweats, blatantly groping at the thick curve of his ass. He let out a rough groan that you eagerly swallowed down, the skin around your mouth already burning from the rasp of his beard where it had rubbed against you. “Fuck—Bed. Now.” 

He wasn’t going to get an argument from you. 

It was a short, stumbling walk from there to the bedroom. Neither of you bothered to keep your hands off each other, your fingers fisting in his damp hair as he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses to that special spot under your jaw that made your legs shake, Matt seemingly eager to drink the remaining droplets of water from your skin. You should have guessed his plans when you noticed the towel on the bed. But it was hard to focus with the tantalizing burn of his new beard dragging across the delicate skin of your throat, and with the taste and scent and touch of him filling your senses after a long two weeks apart. It felt like there was nothing in the world but him, nothing but the scent of cinnamon and copper and salt, the warmth of it so rich you couldn’t help but gasp with it as he herded you backwards until at last, you both found the bed. 

The world lurched, and just like that you were pinned beneath him, the broad, heavy weight of him easily trapping you against the mattress, not that you minded. Your ragged moan of his name seemed to hang in the air, your fingers still tangled in his hair. God, your cunt was practically dripping already as you lifted your hips, trying to rock up against him in invitation. You'd been thinking of this the entire time you'd showered. He had to have sensed it. “Matt, sweetheart, please.” “I’ve been thinking about this since you left,” he purred in your ear, his breath a rush of burning embers before he started down your body. The moment he reached your bare breasts, he pressed his face between them, the rasp of his beard making you shiver. He inhaled deeply, dragging your scent deep into his lungs. That inhale led to a hitched, delighted moan, his hips rocking down against the mattress. Without warning, he turned his head and eagerly drew one of your nipples into his mouth. The greedy suction of his mouth when paired with the bristling scratch of his facial hair made you whine, writhing as best you could where you were trapped beneath the heavy weight of muscle and bone. But despite the way you offered up your chest in invitation, he had other plans, quickly releasing your breast to slide further down your body. His voice dropped into something low and sinful, then, soft as silk against your skin. “And I’ve missed this sweet pussy of yours, sweetheart.” He placed a tender, innocent kiss against your hip, the gentle nature of it at direct odds with the obscenity of his words. It was a combination that left you burning up, your breath hitching as he pointedly lifted one of your legs to drape it easily over his shoulder. He directed his blank gaze back up towards your own, his lips curling up into a feral grin. “So I’m going to see how many times I can make you come with my mouth tonight. And I’m not stopping until you’ve soaked everything underneath you.” 

Oh god—

Your eager moan and the fresh flood of arousal between your legs was the only answer he needed. He let out a quiet hiss before diving in, his tongue burying itself between your folds for one heavy lap up your cunt, the first taste of you he’d had in weeks. And with a rough moan that matched yours in volume, he threw one arm over your hips, and settled in.

And there he stayed, his face buried between your thighs, for hours. 

You lost track of your orgasms after you came for the third time, three of his fingers hilted deep inside you, his tongue lapping firmly, determinedly at your clit. It had been impossible to resist between that and the rhythmic,  rough scrape of his beard against the inside of your thighs—a sweet-edged pain you were quickly growing addicted to. You came so hard you saw spots at the edge of your vision, came so hard you left a puddle on the towel beneath you, your startled cry loud enough to wake the neighbors. Your brain didn’t even know what to do with that kind of pleasure, your thighs snapping shut around his head, your whole body writhing as the pleasure washed over you in uneven waves.

But Matt didn’t so much as slow. If anything, he simply opened his mouth wider, drank from you even faster, swallowing down that flood as if you were the sweetest of wines. The moment he tasted your orgasm, one that drenched his beard and mouth, his eyes snapped shut, his hips bucking against the mattress. A wild, shaky moan tore from his throat as he came with you, soaking his sweats, the rhythm of his mouth growing clumsy and uneven.

Yet still, he didn’t stop, despite the fact you'd both come. All it took was a few breaths before he was back at it. He seemed almost mindless now, focused only on taking, greedy and insatiable as he forced your body and his to start the climb yet again.

You lost control over your body not long after, your reactions instinctive and uncoordinated. Somehow you found your hands back in his hair, soft, sweat-soaked strands sliding through your fingers. You weren’t sure what you meant to do then, whether you wanted to push him away from your overstimulated body or pull him in even closer, ride his face the way you wanted. Either way, he wound up deciding for you. 

“Seems to me like someone can’t control herself.” He braced one hand firmly against your abdomen, and though he couldn’t see you, you still felt pinned by his gaze and the almost drunken little quirk of his lips. Even in the low light, you could see how his beard and mouth glistened, slick with the taste of you. “Do you need the rope, sweetheart? Do you want me to help you?” 

There wasn’t a chance in the world of you remaining still without that rope, not if he intended to keep going. And you both knew it. 

“Yes, please,” you whispered, your eyes fluttering closed as he clumsily rose from his place between your legs. Despite the lingering oversensitivity in your body, the sudden absence of his mouth still made you whimper. You just—you needed more, the promise of it keeping the tide of your arousal from fully easing.  

“What a good girl, admitting you need help,” he crooned, crawling up the bed far enough to reach the nightstand, pausing only to brush his lips against yours, the scent of your sex clinging heavily to his beard and mouth. He opened the drawer and dug around for a moment, until he finally drew free a length of red silk rope, testing it out in his hand. Once he was satisfied, he began to loop the rope around your wrists. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure you can’t move. Because I meant what I said. I’m not letting you up until I’m finished with you, and I’m nowhere near done, sweetheart.” 

The moment your wrists were properly tied, he placed his knees on either side of you, rising up to hook the length of rope to the hook set into the wall. But that put something else within reach of your mouth, and all the grinding he’d done against the bed had managed to drag his soaked sweats down just far enough to expose his cock. He was already half-hard again, the head slick and dripping, flushed dark and tempting. 

In that moment, you needed to taste it. 

The noise he made as you darted your head forward and took the tip of him into your mouth was inhuman, one part choked gasp and one part snarl. You suckled at the broad head eagerly, rapid little licks of your tongue against his slit to draw out more of the precum leaking steadily into your mouth, trying to get as much as you could before he could stop you. He wound up hunched over the top of you, one hand braced against the wall, the other fisted in your hair to hold you against him. And the harder you sucked, the more his rough growls and snarls shifted into high moans and soft little whines, his hips bucking instinctively, helplessly forward, pressing his cock deeper into the warm, welcoming wet heat of your mouth. Even those powerful thighs of his started to shake.

If you did this right, he’d come in no time at all. 

But it was the creak of the ropes as you instinctively reached for him that seemed to snap him out of it. 

Just like that, your head was wrenched back by his hand in your hair, his cock sliding free from your lips with a wet pop, saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth, and down onto your chest as you stared blearily up at him. Chest heaving, dark eyes burning, he slowly leaned down until his lips hovered mere millimeters from yours. But even though his lips hadn’t made contact, his beard did, the faintest brush of bristling hairs tickling against your overheated skin until you couldn’t help but moan. 

“And this,” he grit out, “is why you’re being tied: because you can’t keep your hands or your mouth to yourself.”  

“I’m sorry,” you whined, trying to nuzzle at him in apology. He dodged your mouth, his hand tightening in your hair in warning. This time, at least, you listened, rolling your head back into his touch, trying to make up for what you’d done, submit like he wanted. “I’m sorry, Matt. I just wanted a taste, I needed you so bad.” 

“If you’d asked like a good girl, maybe I’d have given it to you. Now you’re going to have to make it up to me.” He abruptly let go of your hair, climbing back down your body, ignoring the way you thrashed and twisted. Once he was back in place, he roughly shoved your thighs apart, dropping back down between your legs like he belonged there, claiming that space for himself. “Do I need to beg?” you choked out, practically shaking when he caught the thin, delicate skin of your inner thigh between his teeth, sucking hard. He lingered there for a long moment as you moaned and yanked desperately on the ropes, but it was no use. He was in control, not you, and you knew he wouldn’t let go until he’d left his mark, claiming this part of your body that belonged to only him. But what you weren’t expecting was for him to let go… and then tip his head, sliding his cheek, and his beard along the newly sensitive skin. The burn of it sent you soaring, your cunt clenching around nothing, your back arching as you tried to offer your core up to his mouth. “I’ll beg! God, I will, Matt, just—” “I don’t need you to beg,” he growled, his lips curling until he’d bared his teeth. “I need you to scream.” 

Then his mouth latched onto your cunt again, relentless and inescapable no matter how much you writhed. It was torture, madness of the best kind, and it wasn’t long before something in your mind began to unravel, drawn right down out of your body and into his mouth to be swallowed down the Devil's greedy throat.

Things… got a little blurry after that. 

There was no tracking the time, not when one orgasm melded into the next, minutes and hours falling away beneath the merciless lap of Matt’s skilled tongue, the brutal curl of his thick fingers, the rough scrape of his beard against your thighs and cunt until everything burned with pleasure and pain that turned the edges of your vision a fractured white. There was no outside world, no thought left in your mind but his name, nothing but the mountains he dragged your increasingly exhausted body up, and the swift fall when he mercilessly shoved you over the edge, over and over and over until you were ready to lose your mind.

“Matt!” you sobbed, wrenching hard at the ropes binding your wrists. It didn’t make one bit of difference, the rope firm and unyielding where you were bound. Down between your legs, Matt slurped hungrily, drunkenly at your cunt, his face and throat drenched with your slick, a wide puddle on the towel beneath the place where his mouth connected to your body. The burn of his beard was almost unbearable now, but you didn’t know what to do about it. You weren’t even sure he could hear you at this point, his eyes glazed over and glassy, the broad laps at your slit and clit so instinctive and clumsy that you were half convinced he was lost in the same place you were, drunk off the taste of your pussy, off your repeated orgasms and pheromones that he’d been drenched in. 

Another finger joined the three he already had buried deep inside you. He’d been at this so long that your body parted for him with little issue, and god, god, you were so goddamn full, so trapped in the haze that all you could do was choke out another sob as all four of his fingertips rubbed firmly at that spot inside you. You were too tired even to close your legs around his head, but you could feel it—that final orgasm curling hot and inescapable inside you, so close now you could taste the fractured shards of it, tears streaming down your cheeks as your eyes snapped shut.  

“I think maybe you earned that taste you wanted,” he slurred, kissing lovingly at your clit like he might a lover, his lips parted just far enough to let his tongue brush against you. And god, it almost hurt, it hurt, your body so far beyond oversensitivity that even that light touch hit you like a bolt of lightning, your body jolting. “Not that you can answer me now. Or can you?”

All you could give him was a mindless whine. 

He chuckled, working his free hand down beneath himself as he lifted his hips. His mouth dropped open a moment later, face going slack against your cunt before he moaned loudly, his shoulder shifting rhythmically beneath your thigh, his eyes rolling shut. Was he—

He drew his hand up a moment later with a purr, his fingers now smeared and sticky with both your wetness and his, glistening softly in the low light. “What do you say, sweetheart? Would you like a taste? Because I would.”

You whimpered, tugging mindlessly at the ropes, and you—yes, yes, but your tongue couldn’t seem to quite form the word yes, because he still had the fingers of his other hand buried inside you, rubbing steadily at the spot that made you see stars. God, please, the mere thought of tasting your combined flavors on your tongue had you almost mad, your body a hairs-breadth away from coming. All you needed was a nudge—a brush of him at your clit, the taste of him on your tongue, and you’d tip over the edge. 

He clearly knew it, too. And you thought-you’d thought he would be offering his hand as he dipped back down to your cunt, but instead, he pulled his soaked fingers free from you with a sigh. Your cry was a broken thing, something thick with grief at feeling so empty when you were so close, more tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Shh, you’re alright, sweetheart, don't cry,” he crooned gently, hushing you as he crawled up over your body, nuzzling at your sweat-soaked skin. “Don’t worry. It’s only for a second. I won’t leave you empty. I promise. Almost done. Almost there. One more for me. You’re going to give me one more, honey.” But how, when you were so empty, when you didn’t have his mouth or his fingers, lost and—

He groaned as he began to slide his thick cock inside you. You’d been stretched so open by his fingers, by all of your orgasms over the past few hours, that he entered you with a delicious ease. The sloppy, wet squelch of his cock as he slid inside you would have made your cheeks burn if you’d had any sense left. 

“Shit,” he moaned, one hand braced beside your head, fisting in the sheets. One rock of his hips and he was buried as deep as he could reach, your cunt clenching around him as if it were trying to keep him there. You were too exhausted to lift your legs and lock them around his hips. All you could do was gasp and accept him, your eyes rolled back as you hovered on the edge. “Nn, there you go, sweetheart. There we go. Nice and-and full. Hold on just a little longer for me. Open your mouth, honey.” 

You parted your lips instantly, long past resisting, long past thinking. 

His fingers stroked gently against your tongue a moment later, allowing you to take in the combined musky taste of yourself, the bitter richness of his cock, and how it mingled and melded with the taste of his skin.

“Suck for me like a good girl,” he murmured, his other hand rising to wipe away a few of your tears. Once that was done, he settled his hand around your throat, as if he wanted to feel it when you swallowed. “Go on, sweetheart. You can have it.” 

You curled your tongue around his fingers, drawing them deep into your mouth with a grateful moan. The explosion of it across your tongue as you swallowed, the sheer obscenity of it, made you choke out a broken cry. His fingers were yanked back a moment later only to be replaced by his tongue snaking lazily into your open mouth, blatantly chasing your paired tastes with a filthy moan. All of it rolled up over you at once—his cock sliding up against that spot inside you, the whisper of pressure around your throat as his massive hand closed around it, the angle of his hips that let his body grind against your clit, the paired taste of you both filling your mouth as his tongue curled against yours, but… 

It was the harsh scrape of his beard against your skin that pushed you over the edge. 

Later, you wouldn’t remember the noise you made as you came, your body seizing as your orgasm slammed into you in one sudden rush. Your body went rigid, back bowing off the bed so sharply you felt something pop, your head thrown back as you lost yourself beneath a roaring tide of pleasure. Because this-this wasn’t something you rode, something you swam with, something that swept over you gently. This was something you survived, something you choked beneath, drowned beneath. You barely heard Matt’s shout, didn’t even notice the spreading heat as he came with you in slick pulses of warmth. You heard even less his slurred words of encouragement against your lips as your orgasm lingered in waves that just didn’t end, and you couldn't, you couldn't—

“There you go. Good girl, good girl, so good for me, let it all go sweetheart, I’ve got you, good gi—”

You weren’t quite sure where your mind went, then. But things cut out for a while.

How long you tapped out for was a mystery, the world around you faded into a soft black. All you knew was that when you finally floated back up from that quiet sea, your senses coming back to you one by one, Matt was there, your limp body cradled warmly against his chest. “Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured, the sounds distant and still a little warped as he rocked you gently. He had to have untied you at some point, you thought blearily, since he was holding you now, his back against the headboard, your head tucked down against his neck. “Come on back, honey. Time to come back for me.”

You made a soft little noise of acknowledgement in your throat, all you really felt capable of at the moment, your eyes fluttering half open.  

“Hi there, sweetheart,” he hummed, nuzzling down warmly against your hair. One of his hands swept steadily up and down your arm, sensation that helped ground you, along with the easy rhythm of his breathing as he held you, the rasp of his skin against yours. “There you are, my good girl. You did so good, honey. Now you’ve got it. Take it slow. Breathe with me."

“Mmm.”

"That works." He huffed a quiet laugh, tipping your slack head back until he could brush his lips against your forehead. Your head lolled against his shoulder, your body feeling a bit like all your bones had just up and wandered off. Maybe Matt had sucked them out of you. “I got eight out of you tonight if you can believe it. A new record.”

“It’s,” you slurred thickly, “the… beard. I love it.” 

“I figured. And now I'm definitely going to keep it.” He nuzzled at you again, lifting one of your hands so he could knead gently at your wrist where you’d been tied. You'd probably have some bruises tomorrow considering how hard you'd yanked at the ties, but you'd wear them with pride. You always did. “And now you get the full aftercare treatment. Water, a snack, maybe a massage and a lot of cuddling before you fall asleep. I almost thought about drawing you a bath, but I’m not quite sure I trust you not to accidentally slide down into the water right now, even with me holding you.”

“...Fair.” You sleepily mashed your face against his throat, drawing the musky scent of sex and his skin deep into your lungs. You were still floating to a certain extent, your body sore and exhausted, but the comfort of his touch, the low rumble of his voice went a long way to soothing you. “Love you. Missed you.” 

“I love you and missed you, too.” He pressed a fond kiss to your wrist, letting out a contented sigh. “Let’s avoid being apart for a while.”

“Agreed.” 

[osachiyo]

˖ 𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 ! — dazai, chuuya, fyodor, nikolai & jouno

𔘓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — n/sfw content (mdni), hurt + comfort, degradation, tit slapping, use of safe word, ooc in fyodor’s but idc let a girl dream, spanking, rough sex, face fucking, sadism, dacryphilia, toys, role-playing in jouno’s, overstimulation, reader doesn't actually use a safe word in chuuya's (its not possible with a mouthful of cock i promise), cunilingus, one of my only fics where fyodor isn't a toxic little shit so 🤷🏽‍♀️ ps. don't steal my headers !!

𔘓 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 — here it is, the bsd version ! sorry for taking so long to finish this, there were some.. distractions 😓 i honestly did not expect this many people to request it *sob* anyways, happy reading and i hope ya'll enjoy ! NOT PROOFREAD !!

like this post? then view my masterlist for more !

“ ‘samu—!” You squealed, tugging on your boyfriend's hair as he moaned into your cunt, doing nothing but giving you more of that toe-curling pleasure.

"Mmh - don't interrupt my meal, darl'," he leaned back for some air only before spitting on your puffy cunt and driving back in. Large, bandaged hands were pushing your hips down on the bed to keep you in place— to let him have his favourite meal in peace, as he told you.

You couldn't recall how many times you came on his tongue— absolutely drenching his beautiful face with your juices, and he loved it. But you, on the other hand, were starting to get exhausted - no, you were exhausted, chest heaving as you tried to keep up with the hot coil in your lower tummy, threatening to snap any moment.

Dazai would know your limits if it were any other day - he'd know just when to stop, but today was exhausting for him too— and the entire day he was thinking of burying his face between his pretty little girlfriend's thighs - it never failed to melt all of his stress away and fuck did it work like a charm - all thoughts but the taste of your pretty cunt left his mind once he finally tasted you. Including the fact that you had your own limits and needed a break - no matter how pleasurable the feeling of his tongue felt against your swollen cunt— you needed a break.

You hesitantly moaned out the safe word, sinking into the mattress in exhaustion as you watch Dazai blink in confusion, before immediately pulling away from you. The bandaged hand that was previously pinning you down with fervor was now caressing your thigh gently.

"Are you alright, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?" He was calm, eyeing you for any sign of hurt or discomfort. You only shied away from his gaze, fingers fingers fiddling with the satin sheets as you shook your head - "no.. just tired, 'samu." He nodded, a pout gracing his lips - the pink muscle glossy from your combined slick and saliva, "aww, was that too much for my pretty baby?" You only rolled your eyes, playfully hitting his chest as he laughed, planting a kiss on your temple with a soft "I love you so much."

"I love you too," You giggled as Dazai buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing the bruises he gave you earlier that night as an apology.

Chuuya had a rough day, his underlings being "fucking dumb and not getting shit right as usual," in his words. So like the good little girlfriend you were, you were generous enough to offer your hard working boyfriend some "stress relief".

That's how you ended up on your knees in front of the ginger haired man— who was still fully dressed, seated on the fancy black leather couch as you choked on his cock.

Loud growls and words of praise left his chapped lips in hurried curses, a gloved hand pushing your head down to take his cock in fully, basically making you deepthroat him. "God, pretty f-fuckin' girl, my good girl - such a good fuucking- argh—! fuckfuckfuck! Just like that baby, take this fuckin' cock.." He threw his head back against the headrest of the couch, hips now thrusting erratically up to your mouth, fat balls slapping against your chin as you gagged around him. Tears streaked freely down your stuffed cheeks, making him hiss out curses— fuck, you were such a pretty crier.

If he were only more focused and not drunk off of the pleasure of your warm and inviting mouth swallowing him whole, he'd notice your panicked whines, the way you dug your nails into the muscle of his thighs - scratching and trying to pull away from his cock, even slapping them in panic.

You couldn't breathe— you felt lightheaded and if Chuuya kept going, you'd surely faint from the lack of air.

As if right on cue, Chuuya finally remembered that you needed to breathe— hurriedly letting go of your hair and pulling you off his cock, his heart broke once he saw you coughing and sputtering on the floor, your face scrunched up in pain as air finally entered your lungs.

"Shit— doll, are you okay? Fuck, I'm so sorry, baby," he sounded genuinely guilty, and he was! He'd never want to actually hurt you unless you asked for it, and he felt so fucking bad. You nodded in response, leaning your head against his thigh as you finally breathed normally— tears, snot, drool and his precum dripping down your chin.

" 'm sorry for ruining this, Chuu. I know today was stressfu—" Chuuya cut you off with a click of his tongue, his eyebrows furrowed and a frown gracing his pretty lips, "What're you talking 'bout, baby? You didn't ruin anything," he sighed, "c'mere."

He put his hands under your arms before tugging you up in his lap, gently wiping your face with his gloved hands before pressing sweet kisses on your whole face while whispering sweet nothings about how much he loves you— how good you are for him. The ticklish feeling of his kisses made you giggle— sounding like sweet music to his ears.

After all, no matter how much he likes to see you crying and sniffling for him, he'd always prefer your adorable little giggles.

"Slap!"

You choked out a moan at the harsh impact of your husband's hand cracking down on your ass— his hand gently rubbed the heated skin as an apology, but you knew it was only a facade. "How many was that, dear?" He mused, tone nothing but unkind and condescending. It make you feel small, and ashamed— but you also couldn't deny the way your pussy gushed out more and more slick with each hit— and he made sure to belittle you for it.

"T-twenty six?" You stuttered, thighs twitching in anticipation as Fyodor ran a slim finger up and down your soaked folds, collecting the slick on his finger before shoving it inside.

"Mmh—! Fedya p-please.." You begged, which inly made him grin devilishly— god, he was so handsome. "Please what? You have to be more specific than that," he muttered as he shoved a second finger in your drooling cunt— his free hand kneading the battered skin of your ass but you could care less about the sting.

"P-please! Make me cum—!" You gasped when another brutal smack was landed on your poor ass, the soft fat rippling as his hand met your skin. "And who do you think you are to tell me what to do?" His voice grew stern. You flinched when he flipped you on your back, basically throwing you on the pristine white mattress of your shared bed.

You landed on the bed with a soft "oof!", it wasn't long before Fyodor joined you in bed, basically ripping your cute little babydoll dress off of you as greedy hands cupped your tits, his gaze ferocious— you've never seen him like this. "You're such a naughty girl, aren't you?" He growled— kicking your legs apart to nudge a knee between them - against your bare, sopping cunt. "Fedya—" You got cut off by your own pained yelp as Fyodor tangled his fingers into your hair, yanking your head back to reveal your throat— the soft and sensitive skin just begging him to bite it - mark you up as his.

"Hush now, slut." He scoffed, harshly biting down on the column of your throat— as you let out a pained gasp. It hurt like hell.

You don't know what happened but you didn't like this anymore, you didn’t want to be treated roughly anymore, didn’t wanna be called mean names— you weren’t even processing the harsh words coming out of his mouth, you just wanted it to stop.

“Red, S-stop— red!” You whimpered, sniffling as Fyodor’s movements came to a halt. He let go of his tight grip on your hair— instead gently scooping you up in his arms and cradling you, hushing your little whines.

He silently scanned you before saying anything, dry lips pulled into a frown. You certainly didn’t look hurt… was it something he said? “What happened, darling?” He questioned, voice calm and soothing— a contrast to your own broken one. “Too rough,” you pouted up at him, burying your face further in his chest.

Oh.

“I’m sorry, love. I should’ve been gentler, huh?” He brushed a stray hair from your face, before gently massaging your scalp— easing the burn from him pulling it earlier. “ ‘s okay, fedya,” you sighed, he was so good with his fingers (in more ways than one).

“I love you, dear,” kissing the crown of your head, a soft smile tugged at his lips. “I love you too!” You smiled back. A moment of silence passed as you stayed in his embrace, before speaking up again,

“You’re doing the dishes tonight, by the way.”

“…Fair enough.”

"You're so cute when you get like this," Nikolai cooed, voice drowned out by the sound of his hips smacking against your ass. He had you in a full nelson, your back flush against his chest, strong arms hooked under your knees to hold you up in the air as he thrusted into the warmth of your spasming cunt. "Ngh— 's too much - kolya—" you slurred, head falling back against his shoulder. God, his stamina was no fucking joke— you thought, jaw unhinged as you let out wanton moans. His thighs were absolutely drenched with a nasty mixture of your slick and his cum from the previous rounds— making a "pap! pap! pap!" noise everytime they met your ass. The whole thing was dirty, messy and so fucking lewd— his favorite combination.

"Oh hush now— you say it's too much but—" he gave a mean slap to your bouncing tits, making you squeal and kick your legs at the pained pleasure. "You're just gushing all over me— how am I supposed to believe it's too much for you, hm, dove?" His breath was hot against your ear, making you shudder— "ca— can't! please!" You sobbed, but your tears did nothing more but get him more fired up - shit, you looked the prettiest when you cried.

But the thing is— you actually weren't lying, it was really getting too much for you. But apparently Nikolai was too pussy drunk to recognize the exhaustion on your face. He was going too fast - too hard, you could barely process anything he was saying or even think straight. It was practically a miracle that you even remembered your safe word— "c-clown— clown!!"

It took Kolya some time to process the words falling out of your mouth— brutal thrusts coming to a halt as soon as he realized you just said your safe word out loud. As much as he wanted to ask you what was wrong, he knew he had to place you somewhere comfortable first - make sure you're doing okay. He gently pulled out of you with a wet 'pop!', hissing as your tight walls kept clinging onto him.

Being as soft and gentle as possible, he unhooked his arm from under your knees, flipping you to carry you bridal style - before placing you down on the bed and kneeling in front of you.

"Are you okay, pretty?" His voice was soft— a surprising contrast to how he was manhandling you just seconds before. You nodded, fat tears rolling down your puffy cheeks, which he gently wiped for you. "Talk to me, sweetheart," he pouted - brushing some stray hair out of your face and planting a sweet kiss on your swollen lips. " 'm okay," you rasped, cringing at the way your voice cracked. Nikolai nodded, getting up and quickly getting a glass of water for you.

You gratefully took the glass from him, the cool water immediately calming your burning throat. "Are you hurt anywhere, baby?" He questioned, taking the empty glass from you, before placing it on the nightstand. You shook your head, "no, jus' tired, is all."

"So does that mean we can continue late—"

"Kolya!"

“Well, aren’t you just pathetic?” Jouno grinned, holding the wand vibrator against your clit while pumping the bright pink dildo in and out of you, making you squeal and kick your legs— hips bucking up to meet the toys.

“Please, officer— wanna cum s’ bad!” You sobbed, wrists straining against the leather restraints he had put on you. Jouno hummed, his hand speeding up, thrusting the toy even harder and faster in and out— as he rubbed the wand in circles on your throbbing clit.

“Oh, I bet you do— but, I don’t know if you deserve it yet..” he had a faux pout of his face, pressing the vibrator even firmer against your nub - making you see stars.

He had been at this for hours— getting you so close to reaching your peak before cruelly ripping it away from your grasp, only giving you fragment of the mind-numbing pleasure that you so desperately wanted to feel— and let’s not forget about the mean, degrading words falling from his lips - calling you a worthless slut, who’s only purpose is for his pleasure and his pleasure only. You felt like slapping the cocky grin off his face.

It didn’t feel good for you anymore— instead made you feel terrible, really. The continuous edging with the cruel words took a greater toll on you than both of you had imagined, which led you to eventually sob out the safe word.

Jouno stopped immediately after you blurted out the safe word, quickly but calmly pulling the dildo out of you before removing the wand, placing both of the toys on a nearby table.

He went over to unclasp your restraints, heart tugging at the way you sniffled and hiccuped— fuck, he took it too far.

A frown graced his lips once he felt the marks on your wrists from pulling at the restraints for so long— but before anything else, he had to make sure you’re okay. After all, your safety is the most important to him.

“Are you alright, darling?” He leaned closer, pulling off his slick-coated glasses and chucking them somewhere— wiping your tear soaked cheeks with his now clean hands. You let out a pitiful whimper before nodding, “ you’re too mean and— i still.. w-wanna cum..”

Jouno’s lips quirked up to reveal a cocky smirk— but he couldn’t be more relieved that you were okay - not that he’d ever show it. “Of course, pretty girl— my little crybaby wants to be treated nicely, hm?” He grinned, hand reaching down to flick at your nipple.

“Don’t tease!” You whined, but you still couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “Okay, okay— I’ll treat you like the princess you are,” He snickered, kissing the top of your head before picking you up— taking you to the bed to take you like he had been aching to all this time.

©sachiyoh — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

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[thegnomelord]

i took 357191027r6392936446322736432947372 psychic damage from the Makarov fic so you gotta write reader being rescued, healed, rehabilitated and loved by the task force. imagine them teaching reader to be their own person or letting him top without any commands or punishments. reader would be whining like a puppy who doesn't know what it's doing and would be so cute and fearful looking for reasurance when fucking into a task force member it would be so cute

lol idk dude. I was intending to do the fic as a one off to satisfy my puplay kink but it's now started to rot my brain even more lol. If I did continue it, I don't know if I'd want a happy ending or an angsty one (omfg imagine going through all the healing and rehab and experiencing love only for one word from Makarov to have you going back to him without question)

So tell me ya'll if you want me to turn the one shot into a longer fic lol, but for now here's some headcannons, ideas/ whatever and some porn

CW:NSFW, rough anal, Simon x reader with Price watching, dom/sub.

I can't imagine Hound would be happy about the 'rescue' considering everything and definitely would be resistant to rehab (Hound biting ppl and getting muzzled lol) that dogheaded asinine stubbornness coming to bite him in the ass. I headcannon Hound to have already been violent when he was under Price's command but Price kept Hound in check(if anyone's seen that young ghost and price comic with him being compared to a fighting dog it's kinda like that).

Makarov didn't need to do much and just played into the aggressive tendency to make Hound as they are now. The more violent the reaction hound would make, the more attention and praise he'd get. Also I'm just a sucker for dog like characters that are unhinged. That have no moral compass except for the one they're loyal to and will do whatever they ask.

So the task force members would have their hands full with Hound that's basically an aggressive fighting dog taken straight out of the pit. Also I'm still thinking whether the 141 would try to steer Hound away from the pup/dog like mentality Makarov conditioned them into, or if they would try to redirect it by calling Hound 'pup, boy' etc, instead of 'dog' like Makarov did.

Also the grief Price would feel to see the man he thought was dead turned into that would break his heart. I don't know if I'd want him to crack down on trying to rehab hound, or let a lot of things slide because he's scared of fucking you up more.

But also like rehabed fighting dogs turn out to be the sweetest animals and Hound just going from this 'I will bite your throat out' to just a gentle giant that's just happy to be able to touch or hug someone without needed permission. . . but he can still bite a throat out.

Also I 1000% swear that Makarov's a whore and would have trained reader to have enough stamina to fuck him all night long so the task force would get pounded into next year lol.

This is questionable cannon and non-confirmed lol you just got me brain rotting with the cute pup part and this came out. Rough and quick.

CW:NSFW

You feel like you will die; heat burns through your veins, sweat crawls down your skin and makes your hair stick to your forehead. Your hands grip Simon's bruised hips, holding them up for him as you pound into him. "Please-" You barely manage a small whimper, hiding your face in Simon's shoulder.

Simon's body quivers beneath you, limp and boneless, a wet hole for you to use. He's as sweaty as you, rough grunts and half-formed swears leaping from his lips every time your hips meet his ass in a bruising thrust. He's the closest to you in size, albeit still smaller, which makes it easier for him to take your size than the others. His insides are a sweltering heat around your cock, fucked into a loose sloppy hole that would gape if you pulled out, muscles still doing their best to squeeze you every time you nail his prostate.

It makes you feel ashamed how long it took you to find it. Mounting anyone but Makarov feels wrong, you're not sure how fast or how deep to go, this current rough pace making Simon the most vocal since you began. You feel him cum again, walls clenching tightly for the first time in a while as you force him into spurting what's left in his empty balls.

"Pl- sir, I- please, please," You can't help but hiccup, your nails leaving crescent bruises in his skin as you just pound him through his orgasm. It's his fourth one.

"What's wrong son?" Price's words barely get through the fog of need in your skull, more little whimpers splitting from your lips. "Don't you want to let go?" Tears blurry your vision, you can barely see his face from where he's resting Simon's head in his lap.

You can't cum. Your balls are so full they feel like they'll explode any second, cock throbbing to finally shoot your load but no matter how harshly you thrust into the willing hole beneath you. It feels like those times Makarov would put a cock ring on you, but worse, now it's your own body refusing to give you release. You haven't earned it.

"Please-" You repeat, because that's the best your mind can come up with, your hips stuttering as overstimulation stabs your nervous system like a knife. "I-please, fuck- I can't." You force out, forcing yourself to return to the punishing pace, your pelvis starting to go numb like it would a few hours into Makarov using you as a living dildo.

Price's fingers are disgustingly gentle as they curl into your sweaty hair, making you look up at him with soft pressure on your scalp. There's no bite to his touch, no pain, it's too good for a thing like you.

You'll thank what god exists that Price seemingly understands your problem, "Oh, son." You hate the hint of sorrow in his tone, you hate yourself more for how it makes your heart pound in your ears. "Here, let me" He whispers, his other hand sliding down to your naked neck.

The lack of any collars around your neck still disgusts you every waking moment, still makes you feel wrong, bad dog. His fingers wrap around your throat. They're too loose to be a proper collar, but it lets you breathe easier, his palm warm and big enough to completely cover the 'V.M' tattooed on your skin.

"Go on, that's a good boy." He whispers, "Cum for us." Price orders, kissing you so softly it disgusts you, like heaven wrapped in thorns.

You feel fresh tears spill down your tears as the dam not letting you cum is finally torn down. You hiccup your 'thank you sir's against his lips as you spill inside Simon. You can just distantly hear Simon groan as you dump your cum into his sloppy hole, muscles weakly fluttering around your cock as you roll your hips, fucking your cum deeper into him, just the act of cumming hurting almost as much as being denied, your balls aching with every spurt of cum.

You collapse on Simon, pushing the breath out of his lungs, as boneless as him. You don't struggle when Price rolls you to your side, your cock slipping out. Cum and lube gushes out from his hole like a firehose, flooding the small space between you two, his rim red and irritated, muscles weakly fluttering around nothing as they try to close.

You try to thank him but you slur your words into his skin, feeling the muscles in his abdomen quiver as you huddle closer and wrap your arms around him, your chest pressed flush to his back. You expect him to pull away, Makarov hated being vulnerable like this longer than he needed, but all Simon does is grunt and tip his head back so you can hide your face in the space between his shoulder and neck.

"You olright Simon?" Price asks, brushing a hand through your sweaty hair for a few seconds before you feel him softly wiping away your spend from you two.

"Fuck," Simon breathes out, voice scratchy and rough. "Are we sure Makarov's human?" His hand reaches up to scratch your scalp as you kiss one of the numerous bite marks you left on him. His skin is a canvass of black and blue bruises, your bite marks starting to clot across his body. "Shit, I can't feel my legs."

His words feel like a slap in the face, and you don't notice how you let out a small whimper, your hold tightening. This is it, you'll have to let him go soon, he'll order you to leave like Makarov always did.

"None of that son." Price's voice is calm in your ear, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. "You did good."

Simon hums, his fingers running lower to scruff you, "Mhm, yeah," His words are slurred, exhaustion weighing on both of you. "Best snog I've ever had." He grumbles, and you don't doubt he won't admit it in the morning, but for the moment, as you feel yourself slowly drift off to sleep, you let yourself enjoy the praise, the warmth of human touch, the care you can feel in both of them.

This is starting to feel nice.

[solkara]

❛ 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌'𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃 , lucerys velaryon ❜

⌗ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 , that fateful day at storms end the velaryon boy indeed had someone watching over him but not in the skys above but the waters below

⌗ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 , lucerys velaryon x fem! siren! reader

⌗ 𝐬𝐨𝐥'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 , okie so, this is my first hotd fic and omg I'm so excited!! hope you guys like it cuz ngl kinda obsessed with this concept cuz justice for bbg luke ya'll </3

house of the dragon masterlist

⌗ it's was another stormy day in storm's end. but there was something lingering in the air. a certain air of uncertainty that left you on edge for whatever reason. as if you were waiting for something to happen. though this didn't bother you much as being a siren was full of uncertainty from hunters to being spotted by humans.

⌗ though this didn't mean you weren't careful. as you were always ready to make you escape if you were under threat. though storm's end had become a haven for you. a place shrouded in stormy weather and dark mist with no shortage of food whether it be fish or human. with massive cliff faces that spanned as far as the eye could see and a vast labyrinth of underground sea tunnels. it was truly paradise to you.

⌗ and besides borros baratheon being an oaf and the odd few sailors who would drunkenly sing love songs which sounded eerily similar to a dying duck in an attempt to woo 'the siren of storm's end' life was peaceful. that was until the dragons came.

⌗ you had never seen a dragon before. you had heard of them of course and the house that wielded them. it was hard not to as sailors talked about them almost as much as they talked about sirens. but the fear of dragons was far more real to them. as no sane siren would let a human see them and live to tell the tale.

⌗ now normally in an instance like this you would have dived into deep water or slipped into one of the underwater caves until the incident blew. but something compiled you to watch. and you did with piqued interest. as you watched the smaller dragon flea from the behemoth that stalked him from above. it was clear the two dragons were far from friends.

⌗ and you held your breath as you watched the larger dragon rip the smaller in half with ease. sending both the dragon and his rider plummeting into the water below with nothing to break their fall. as the remains of the chewed-up dragon began to sink so too did his barely conscious rider.

⌗ he looked like an angel. with a halo of dark hair pale skin big dark eyes and a painfully innocent face. as he sank deeper and deeper into the depths of the sea. you couldn't help but admire him for a brief moment. and debated if he should be your dinner or not. though you ultimately decided against it.

⌗ quickly springing into action. you swam towards him. tail slicing through the water creating ripples in the process. grabbing his hand you dragged him to the surface of the water. holding him securely in your arms you couldn't help but silently hope that he wasn't coherent enough to know what was going on. as if he did you would definitely have to kill him.

⌗ as you pulled him to the rocky shore. you lay him on his back as you place your ear to his chest to hear his heartbeat. thank god he wasn't dead. but now you were unsure of what to do. should you just leave him here? or?

⌗ and just as you were debating with yourself about what to do. the boy began to violently cough up sea water. as he lurched forward with arms clasped around his stomach. before looking directly at you before speaking in what felt like a mixture of a tired mumble and a plea for help he said.

⌗ "I want my muña" and with that he passed out again out of his exhaustion. now from those few words he spoke you could deduce a few things. one he was either a targaryen or velaryon as they were the only house that spoke high valyrian. and two he wanted his mother and you would do your damnedest to help him get back to her.

⌗ as you sat next to the sleeping boy you though of your next plan of action. as you weren't too familiar with all of the house of the realm and where they resided. but you decided it would be easier to leave him at dragonstone. as it was the closest to you and was also the castle of house targaryen.

⌗ and with that you set off with the boy in your grasp. as you raced though the water under the cover of night. reaching dragonstone as the first peeps of the sun made it's way over the horizon. as you lay the boy on the shore in a place where he could be easily found.

⌗ as you turned to leave you felt a hand gently grab yours and a soft voice ask. "will I see you again?". and all you could do was softly smile at the boy who struggled to keep his eyes open as sleep threatened to envelop him as you waited for his eyes to close again before slipping out of his grip and disappearing into the water of the dark sea.

⌗ when lucerys velaryon woke from his slumber he was on the shores of dragonstone. he was confused about how he got here. his mind was a blurry mess. and then he remembered. aemond. vahgar. drowning. the girl who saved him. so many questions and yet no answers. as he sat next to the water all he could seem to remember were her piercing eyes and....a tail.

⌗ fast forward till this day long after the coronation of his mother the queen rhaenyra. and still till this day the lord of driftmark still tells everyone a siren saved him that fateful day at storm's end. and every sunrise he waits by the water. waiting for a chance to say thank you to the girl he owed his life to.

[kyeomofhearts]

Again & Again | C.SC

+ summary: you caved in and fucked your best friend, but it was only a one-time thing… right?

+ pairing: scoups x fem!reader

+ word count: 4k

+ content: fwb!, chubby reader (love ya'll), friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, mutual pining, pussy drunk cheol, size kink, angst, fluff.

+ WARNINGS: smut, dom!seungcheol, sub!reader, rough sex, praise? pls lmk if I missed anything

🫧 AHHHHH this is my first fic on here! I tried proofreading it but I can only read so much :') I hope the people that see this, enjoy!

You wished you had an excuse for last night’s events, you really did, because how are you supposed to tell your best friend of ten years that you didn’t want to fuck him again?

Okay, that sounds harsh… but it’s the truth!

It’s not like he was a bad fuck either because it was quite the opposite. The man was incredible in bed, plain and simple. But you know how these things go, someone proposes the idea of friends with benefits, and then boom! Someone ends up falling for the other and now the whole dynamic is ruined. And you knew that you would be the one that fell for him.

There's no denying that there was always something more with Seungcheol, he was just different from your other friends. Your 'reasoning' was that you two had known each other for so long that you naturally saw him differently. This was something you tried to push time and time again. And for the most part, you were pretty successful in hiding your attraction towards him... except for last night.

Which leads us to our dreaded present. You have come to terms that the deed has been done (well done if you might say so yourself). And you most definitely cannot deny that yesterday’s events occurred because then you would be lying to yourself and Seungcheol-

“Hello? Are you even listening to me y/n?”

Shit.

“Hm? Sorry, what were you saying?”

Cheol scoffed and playfully flicked your forehead. He turned his whole body towards you, “I was saying that we should do this again. I really enjoyed last night so maybe we could make this a regular thing… if you wanted to that is.”

At least you knew he enjoyed last night, seeing how he wants more. But what if that's all he wants?

It’s now or never. You have to tell Cheol that it was only a one-time thing.

You turned your body to face Seungcheol and locked eyes with him. Even though you’ve seen his freshly woken up face countless times , it still brought butterflies to your stomach every time he looked at you. Especially his eyes, they somehow become even more droopier in the mornings. How could you ever say no to him when he looks like a lost puppy?

No. Stay on track.

“I don't know Cheol, I'm not sure if I can do that.”

And… here we go. You immediately see worry take over his face. His eyes somehow looked even more glossier than normal. You had to clarify yourself quickly or the damage would be irreversible.

You quickly throw your hands in the air for defense. “No, no, no… it’s not like that! I swear. I just don’t want to overcomplicate things Cheol. It’s just that I know how these things go and I seriously cannot bear the thought of losing you.”

He was about to say something before your hand went to his hair, going through his soft, fluffy locks. Seungcheol’s face seemed to relax with this gesture. You wanted to keep the atmosphere light and show him that nothing was going to change between the two of you.

It stayed like that for another minute or so.

He took a deep breath. “No I get it… But, my offer still stands you know.” He ruffled your hair while saying that last part.

God his morning voice sounds so raspy. Just how you like it. And it’s so tempting to just throw all of your self restraint away and fuck him again. But you know it’s for the best, I mean, it’s not that uncommon to fuck your best friend… right? Whatever. This whole thing will pass and you guys are just going to laugh about it someday in the future.

You giggled at that thought. But going back to what Cheol said.

“No yeah, of course. You know I would never turn down an offer to fuck you again.” This was a lie of course, but you had to keep it light. Although, this did make Cheol’s ears flush a bright red, which is very uncommon to see. Laughing, you were able to roll out of bed and start getting ready for the day.

Seungcheol’s eyes followed your frame as you went about in his room, gathering all of the lost pieces of clothing that you did not care for last night.

What you didn't know was that Seungcheol felt the same exact way about you. He was just as scared as you though, which is why he never pushed for more. Scared that he would lose you if he did so. He thought that maybe last night could lead the two of you for more, he just didn't know how to approach you about it.

He tried ignoring the sinking feeling in his chest. Your response worried a part of him because he knew that last night was for sure going to change your friendship, whether he liked it or not.

"Hey, I have to go now, but I'll see you later, yeah?" You said while waiting for him to walk you out.

"Yeah, for sure."

It will all work out, he thought. It has to.

All good things eventually come to an end.

That ‘good thing’ being your resolve. One week. A total of seven days before you came crawling back to Seungcheol about that deal. Because at this point you did not care about what was going to happen next.

From: You

Hey, I know it’s late but are you home rn?

Sent at 11:42 pm

You were desperate at this point. You thought that maybe Cheol was “great” in bed because he was the only person you’d had sex with within the last six months. So naturally, you decided to hook up with a stranger from the bar, to test your theory.

Not the best idea.

When you guys got to his apartment, he was all over you, but not in a good way. It felt rushed and sloppy. What you had forgotten during your night with Cheol was that some guys really did not care about your pleasure. Because not even two minutes of making out, and the guy was already trying to stick it in! To make matters worse, the guy didn’t even know where your clit was, like come on! Overall, it was a terrible experience.

Which is why you were in your current situation. You had weighed the pros and cons of fucking Cheol on a regular basis. …And they weren’t too bad. If anything, the two of you had excellent communication so if a problem came up then you could just talk it out, no big deal.

But god did you feel pathetic. You were so quick to shut his idea down and now you’ve come crawling back to his-

From: Cheollie

Yeah what’s up?

Sent at 11:53 pm

Relax. If he says no, then he says no. Not a big deal.

From: You

Well, if you’re not busy… I was thinking about a follow up from last week?

It’s okay if you changed your mind about it! I was just curious if you were still up for it 🫣

Sent at 11:55 pm

You immediately put your phone on ringer and threw it to the couch. The thought of seeing his text bubbles in real time gave you so much anxiety. Maybe you should just take a lap around your kitchen, that always helps right?

Not even a foot away from the couch and… he was calling you?

You scurried over to your phone and accepted the call with haste.

“He-”

“I’m coming over in ten.” And then he hung up.

Wow. That was pretty dramatic, he couldn’t have said that through text? Although, you couldn’t deny just how excited you were. It certainly didn’t help that he seemed to be just as ready as you were for him.

These next minutes of waiting were going to be hell for you.

Needless to say, you were thrilled.

You figured that with the time you had, you could at least spruce yourself up.

Which is exactly what you did.

You changed out of your old pajamas and into something more presentable. By presentable you mean revealing because you really do not want to struggle to take off your clothes. Plus, you want to give Cheol a treat for being able to come out so late. So you also sprayed on that perfume he complimented you on a while back (totally not why you continued buying it). Maybe you should clean your apartment up? Seungcheol has seen worse but it never hurts you know.

You were about to go ahead and start cleaning but the doorbell rang.

Damn, he was fast.

The anticipation was eating you alive. You could not wait for what Cheol had in mind for you. Just the mere thought of him made heat rush down to your core.

Opening the door, you were met with Seungcheol. Not just his regular self though, he was in a black compression shirt with loose-fitting sweatpants. It was so simple yet so hot. You would have kept ogling until he cleared his throat.

“What made you change your mind?” He asked with a smug expression.

Ugh, if you weren’t so turned on you would definitely wipe that smile off his face… but you needed dick bad. Like really bad.

“Well I would lie to you and say that I thought it through but I’m really horny right now…”

You turned away from him to close the door.

“Well, we can always talk about it after… right? Or maybe you’ll be too fucked out to even talk.”

Now this made you turn swiftly towards him.

Which was a big mistake. His face was merely inches away from yours and you could even smell his cologne radiating off of his body. His eyes were dark, something you only saw when he would talk to girls at the club. Only this time it was directed towards you.

You went for the kill and locked your lips against his. You needed to taste him again, you were just that insatiable. His lips were so soft and plush against your own. You were always jealous of his lips, they were always somehow perfect.

Your arms slid over his shoulders to draw him closer to you. Now pressed as close as possible, your hands began to wander throughout his torso. You never truly noticed just how broad his shoulders were, never mind his chest. You wished that he never stop whatever he was doing at the gym, because clearly it was working.

As much as Seungcheol loved the attention, he felt the need to taste you again.

“Open,” he said with a low rasp.

You obliged and opened up for him, allowing him to nibble at your lower lip. He kissed you with the same amount of fervor. He raised his hand to tangle his fingers around your hair. Seungcheol’s fingers tightened their grip causing you to let out a small whimper.

Now that was a sound Cheol loved to hear, especially coming from you. He wanted to see just how loud you could get.

Carefully, Seungcheol readjusted his grip on your hair and firmly tugged on it once again. This was his way of testing the waters, since he didn’t know how rough you liked it.

When you whimpered once again, he made sure to take a mental note of that.

Things began to get increasingly heated by the second. Which is why you decided that it was (finally) time to relocate to your bedroom.

...

Once the two of you had reached the door to your bedroom, Cheol had suddenly lifted you off the ground.

Now you weren't necessarily a fan of being picked up, considering you weren't 'light' like others. Totally not traumatized from previous partners struggling to pick you up...

“Now why would you do that?" You tried to keep it cool but it was obvious that you were a little frazzled. It honestly scared you that he was able to lift you up so easily, like what was he training for at the gym?

“Just because I can,” Seungcheol said nonchalantly. His voice made you gush with wetness, it was just that deep.

After that, he gently threw you on your bed. Maybe he just wanted to show off his strength, you thought. It was still hot either way.

He slowly started stripping, starting with his shirt. Seungcheol was a big dude, and you knew that, but seeing him in all of his glory really did something to you. Though the lighting in your room was dim, the shadows did an excellent job of emphasizing just how big his chest was. He was undeniably handsome, you could see why everyone threw themselves at him...

You were staring again. Get a grip!

"Quit with the teasing and just fuck me," you were getting more desperate by the second.

This made him even more cocky, but he didn't say anything. Rather he tugged at your shorts for you to take them off. So you did, and your cunt was immediately hit by the cold air in the room.

"No underwear?" Cheol said, trying to not make his surprise evident.

You felt like being bold today, who knows what he’ll do to you if you teased him enough.

"Why bother when you were gonna take it off anyways?"

That's when he knew you were going to be the death of him. How could he ever think about being with anyone else when you were perfect for him?

"Fuck, don't say shit like that."

Seungcheol was enamored with your body and everything that you had to offer. The soft plushness of your skin made him want to break you even more. But before he broke you, he had to give you a taste of heaven.

He started off by trailing sweet kisses on your thighs. He took his time on working you up. Eventually he reached your cunt, pressing light pecks on it.

He wanted to take his time here, remembering just how sensitive you got when he ate you for the first time. His goal was to have you crying by the end of the night.

“God, I forgot how good you tasted love,” he mumbled into your pussy.

Seungcheol used his arms to hoist your legs on his shoulders. His grip on your thighs now firm and steady.

He started off light, giving you slow and gentle licks on your clit. He wanted to slowly build you up to your first release (more like an excuse to tease you).

This seemed to please you, but not for long. You could only enjoy the slow pace for so long until you started craving for more.

Fortunately, Seungcheol had been growing his hair out, making it the perfect length to tug on.

You didn’t realize how good and bad this move would be.

This for sure got him to speed up his movements. Instead of gentle licks, he switched to harsh sucking. Occasionally groaning into your pussy, which brought you delicious vibrations. He was eating you out like a starved man, he just couldn’t get enough of you.

With his consistency, it was no surprise that you already started to feel the warmth in your lower belly. It's not like it was hard to make you cum either, that is if you knew what you were doing.

Seungcheol knew this, he felt the way you were beginning to twitch and tighten your legs around his head. God did he love just how plush and warm they were. He thinks he could stay here forever if given the opportunity. He began to speed up his efforts in hopes of bringing you to your first release of the night. The more releases, the easier it gets for him to slide into your (heavenly) pussy.

And just as he was thinking about this, you came.

But Cheol wasn’t feeling nice today, he wanted to push you past your limits. So even after you came, he still kept the same pressure and speed on your now sensitive bud.

You tried to get him to slow down, or at least just give you a little break. Tugging his hair didn’t seem to work, in fact, it worsened it. He would speed up every time you tugged on his locks. You were beginning to feel the same warmth in your belly. Two minutes haven't even passed since your first orgasm!

Just a few more licks and you were spasming against Seungcheol's head again. Finally, you pushed his head away from your overly sensitive cunt, this seemed to do the trick.

"Aw, is my pretty girl already tired?" He cooed while moving his face up to yours.

You didn't reply to him. Feeling spent from your first and second orgasms for the night.

"I hope you know that this is just the beginning love, I haven't even stretched you out yet," he whispered right before diving in to give you a kiss.

You have never tasted yourself before, it was a bit salty but nothing too strange. His hands roamed over your waist, just before going up to settle on your chest.

He softly tugged at your shirt so you would let him take it off.

Now Seungcheol was aware of how you felt about your body. Having heard your frequent frustrations with being on the chubbier side. And no matter how much he reassured you that you were beautiful, you still managed to doubt yourself. He never understood that which frustrated him just as much. He just wanted to show you just how gorgeous you were in his eyes.

So while he had the chance, he was going to show you how much he loved your body. He was going to worship you. Seungcheol peppered your chest with small chaste kisses, and he continued all the way down to your boobs. His tongue passionately flickered over one of your hardened nipples, with his hand softly massaging your other breast.

While his hand was working on your hardened bud, his other hand slithered its way down to your cunt. His thumb made slow circles on your clit, while two of his fingers teased at your entrance. Fortunately, you were wet enough to slide in with little resistance. He made slow scissoring motions to open you up for him. While he wasn't necessarily trying to make you cum, he did want to make this at this pleasurable at the very least.

But you were growing needier by the second. You loved his attention to foreplay, but god did you just want him to get inside you already.

"Please, Cheol, just get inside, I'm more than ready by now." Your face was burning, never have you begged someone to fuck you.

Your plea was more than enough and he quickly stopped everything he was doing. He got out of the bed to shimmy out of his sweats and underwear. And... god was he big. You were never the best at hiding your expressions, because one look at you and Seungcheol started laughing.

"Is something wrong?" He asked with feigned concern.

"Don't tease me right now!" You huffed with slight annoyance.

He chuckled while digging in his sweats for a condom. His smile quickly dropped when he didn't feel anything in his pockets.

Now it was your turn to laugh at him.

"I forgot to bring a condom."

You knew what you were going to recommend was dumb. But since you knew Seungcheol pretty well, you trusted him.

"We... can do it without one," you said, trying to make your voice sound confident enough.

His eyes grew wide, surprised to hear that you would let him fuck you without protection.

He took a deep breath before responding. "I know I'm clean, and I've never fucked anyone without one. I just want to make sure you are completely okay about this."

"I promise." Plus you were on birth control, it was going to be fine.

That being said, Cheol got back on the bed and settled himself between your legs. He gave his cock a few pumps before he settled it near your cunt. Within a few seconds, he slowly began to push the head inside. The initial push stung a bit, but it quickly dissipated once he went further inside.

His eyes fluttered shut at your tightness alongside letting a rough groan out.

Once he was fully inside you, he stayed there for a minute, just wanting to let you adjust to his size. After a beat or so, he experimented with a gentle thrust. You whimpered at the feeling, you wanted more so you decided to clench around his cock to let him know. Seungcheol started at an easy pace, one that was able to tame your neediness. He held that pace for a minute before he quickly switched gears on you.

He started pounding into your aching cunt, lifting your legs over his shoulders. Now this was on another level, it made it easier for him to hit that one spot.

You felt yourself clamp hard around Seungcheol's cock, feeling his thick veins dragging deliciously inside you. A whine was ripped from you as a wave of pleasure shot throughout your body. His hips started snapping into you, smirking every time you desperately cried his name out.

"Fuck, I think I'm gonna cum again Cheol-"

"Not until I say so," as he continued snapping into your hips. The grip he had on you was growing rougher by the second. It was for sure going to leave a bruise in the morning.

He continued with his animalistic pace, grunts occasionally leaving his mouth. He started trailing messy kisses along your neck, sometimes focusing on specific areas. It was getting harder for you to hold your release, you could only last for so long...

"Come on love, you can cum," Seungcheol mumbled against your neck.

You didn't need to be told again, feeling your body shake against his. The sudden gush of wetness running between your legs. Quickly following your release, Seungcheol pulled out and came all over your stomach.

Part of you felt disappointed that he didn't come inside you, but you tried to push that feeling down.

Everything started feeling hazy, you didn't even feel it when he got off the bed to go to the bathroom. Just before you fell asleep Seungcheol lightly tapped your leg.

"Let me clean you up, yeah?"

You flinched once the rag made contact with your cunt, it was just so cold. But it only lasted for a minute.

You felt the bed dip once again and Seungcheol covered the two of you with your blanket. He wrapped his strong arms around your body, pulling your back flush to his chest. He buried his face into your neck and lulled the two of you to sleep.

You woke up to the feeling of fingertips lightly touching and tracing over your side. It was oddly soothing.

When you moved your eyes up to his face, he was looking at you with fond eyes.

"How long have you been staring at me, weirdo?"

"Only for a minute"

You let out a soft giggle. His face was so puffy in the morning, so cute.

"Did you want to come up with some ground rules for our arrangement?"

Crap. You forgot about that.

"Hmmm... I guess my only thing is not sleeping with other people."

Hopefully, he would agree to that. You just didn't feel comfortable messing around with someone knowing they have been sleeping with others.

"Yeah, I can get with that." He said with a gentle tone.

He added, "We should also let each other know when we are talking to other people."

"Of course."

Your arrangement wasn't too difficult. If anything the two of you could always opt out of it.

That should be easy right?

Part Two: II

[floralcyanide]

― ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴊᴀᴠɪ

After realizing you've had enough of being single, you decide to branch out further into your romantic life on a whim. What you don't expect is to meet someone as a result. or ; In which you converse in letters and phone calls with Javi Rivera, an active-duty military man.

part two

↝ pairing: Javier "Javi" Rivera / Fem!Reader

↝ warnings: long distance, reader has anxiety, kinda slow burn?, kissing, mentions of death

↝ word count: 5.3k

↝ author's note: I enjoyed writing this so much. this is the first time I've written something this long in a while. I hope ya'll enjoy! there will definitely be a part two and it's gonna be spicy so be prepared. (;

masterlist ⋇ divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Your dating life has reached a new low. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge- none of them work for you despite your incessant attempts. It’s so bad that your friends have set you up on blind dates, all of which fail or turn into what people like to call situationships. You end up wasting your time on someone thinking it’s going great, and then suddenly, it ends in a fiery crash or sometimes plain old rejection. You’re so tired of dating. Even your university campus has no luck in the dating pool. But then, one night (after drinking too much box wine and scrolling through dating apps begrudgingly), your best friend has an idea.

“Have you ever like, dated long distance?” they ask, swirling their wine around their glass.

“Not really,” you shrug, taking a sip from yours, “I feel like it’d be harder than dating someone close by, which is already a lot.”

“True,” they sigh, “Ooh! Maybe use one of those pen pal apps?” 

“Pen pal apps?” you raise an eyebrow, locking your phone before tossing it on the couch in disgust, “What am I, nine years old?”

Your best friend rolls their eyes, “It’s not something just kids do, you know. A lot of people make genuine connections through letters. It’s a lot better than Tinder or some shitty dating app at this point. You may as well try.”

“I guess you’re right,” you glance down at your phone, “I’m running out of options here.”

After Googling and scrolling through search results, you hum, “Maybe I could do one of the military pen pal programs. That seems promising.”

“Yes! Get you a military man!” your best friend squeals, and you can’t help the giddy smile that grows on your lips.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” you say, and your best friend shakes your shoulder excitedly, “But if it doesn’t work out, I’m just going to die alone, I guess. At this point, it’s less stressful.”

Your best friend snorts, “If we make it to thirty and we’re both still single, we could get married.”

“I love you, but if I had to spend the rest of my life with you, I’d probably go insane.”

“You have some killer jokes, kid. You’re already stuck with me, so sorry.”

That following day, you do a deep dive into all things pen-palling. You decide to sit down at your desk and type up a letter, but it feels too wrong like it needs to be handwritten instead. So, you move your laptop aside, pull out some notebook paper and a pencil, and start your first letter. Except, you aren’t sure what to say first. Then, when you start writing, your handwriting annoys you, and after that, you think your tone is off. You end up scrapping half a tree by the time you start actually writing a decent letter. You introduce yourself and state where you’re from, explaining you’re in college and what you wish to do after graduating. You don’t dive into too much detail but give enough away so your possible pen pal has something to respond to. You also sprinkle in some questions for them to answer as well. You reread your letter, finally satisfied with what you’ve written, before folding it and sliding it into an envelope. You go back to your phone to see where to send the letter, writing down the location along with your name and address on the front.

Life goes on for a little while, and you actually forget you sent a letter to some random person in the military until one day, your best friend is sifting through the mail you tossed onto your counter.

“Uhh, what’s this?” they call out from the kitchen as you surf through Netflix in the living room.

“What’s what?”

“You got a letter from some dude named Javier?” your best friend says it as more of a question than a statement.

You scrunch up your nose and eyebrows in confusion before finally settling on a show you and your best friend have seen a million times already, walking into the kitchen.

“Let me see.”

Your best friend hands over the letter, and you scan the envelope carefully. Javier Rivera. It doesn’t sound familiar to you, but then you notice where the letter is from.

“Oh shit,” you flip the envelope over and tear it open.

“What is it?”

“It’s the pen pal thing!” you say, voice raised in shock, “I didn’t think someone would actually respond.”

“Oh yeah,” your best friend nods, “I forgot about that. I figured you chickened out on it because you never mentioned it again.”

“I didn’t chicken out,” you trail off, taking in the meticulous handwriting of the letter.

Dearest Pen Pal,

Thank you for sending your letter. I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much it meant to me to receive it. I’m Javier, but everyone calls me Javi. I’m the same age as you and have been to college myself. I joined the military for personal reasons, but I haven’t regretted it yet. Your career path seems interesting, and I hope you succeed in the rest of your studies. 

Your best friend hovers over your shoulder, also reading the letter.

“He seems cute,” your best friend giggles.

Javi answers some of your random questions and goes on to say he anticipates your next letter. He also says that if you’d like, he’d send a photo of himself next time. Your best friend has a field day with that.

“Oh my gosh! What if he’s hot?” they gasp.

“Who knows? I wouldn’t care if he wasn’t, anyway. It’s cool to talk to someone I’ve never met over letters.”

“True. But bonus points if he is hot.”

You scoff as you fold the letter up and put it back in the envelope.

When your best friend leaves later on, you immediately bolt to your desk and write your letter. 

Dear Javi,

I’m glad my letter found you well. Thanks for the hope in me, I definitely need it. College is fun, but it’s super exhausting. I don’t think I asked in my last letter, but where are you from? Also, what did you major in while in school? I’d love to see what you look like and put a face to your name. What military branch are you in, and what do you want to do with your experience when you’re back in the States? Sorry for all the questions again! I’m just super curious about things. If this letter reaches you sooner than later this time around, I hope you have a great Thanksgiving.

You wrap up your letter, albeit a little shorter than the last one, and slip it into your mailbox ASAP. This time, you won’t forget you sent it.

When the following letter arrives, it’s early December. You hastily remove your scarf, coat, and wet snow boots at your front door before opening the letter immediately. When you pull the letter from the envelope, a photo falls onto the floor. You pick it up, and it’s a small picture of who you assume is Javi, all decked out in his military uniform. Okay, your best friend was right on the money, he is pretty cute.

Dearest Pen Pal,

I had a decent Thanksgiving. I hope yours was better than mine! I’m from Miami, Florida. I went to school in Muskogee, Oklahoma, and while I was there, I studied weather phenomena and chased storms. It was a whole thing, but I’ll get into that later. And I don’t mind all the questions. I think it’ll be fun getting to know each other. 

Javi explains what branch he’s in and also admits he doesn’t know what he’s going to do after the military as of yet. He talks about his Thanksgiving and wishes you a Merry Christmas if he doesn’t get to communicate with you before then. You decide to send a photo of yourself back to him, digging out your Polaroid camera when you go to your bedroom to respond to his letter. You touch up your makeup a little and make sure your hair isn’t absolutely a mess before taking a photo. Sitting down to write your letter, you aren’t sure how to react to the photo Javi sent. You don’t want to be weird, but you also want him to know that you think he’s attractive. 

Dear Javi,

I love the photo you sent, and you look pretty dapper in your uniform. I’m sending a picture of myself, too. Chasing storms sounds very interesting. Please tell me more about that! 

You rattle off some things you have done while in school, talking about the places you have traveled to over the years and the people you’ve met. You gush about your best friend, especially. 

So far, you’re probably the most intriguing person I’ve talked to, Javi. Not everyone can say they’re a storm chaser, you add. 

You polish off your letter, which ends up being two pages long (three if you count the back on the first page, too.) You neatly fold up the paper and slide it into an envelope. You don’t expect a reply until New Year because of the amount of mail that will be coming in and out of the base. Javi is stationed on the other side of the country from you and may be moved out of the country if needed. 

As you expected, it isn’t until a month and a half later that you receive a letter from Javi again. It’s a long letter- a few pages total this time. The letter is in a Christmas card, and it’s signed by Javi. You immediately hang the card on your refrigerator door so you can look at it daily. He talks about how his holidays went, how all the guys on his base called home or were able to FaceTime their family. Javi asks how your holidays have gone and showers you with compliments over the photo you sent him. You can’t help but feel your stomach flutter at his words. 

Over the next few months, you and Javi write back and forth diligently. You know just about everything about Javi, and he knows almost everything about you. You feel like there’s something he’s keeping from you, possibly the storm chasing he had brought up, but you don’t push it. He will tell you when he’s ready. And there’s also some stuff about your life you’d rather wait to explain as well. In your last letter, you wrote your email and phone number so that Javi can communicate with you in other ways. You’re able to guess how long it takes the letters to get to Javi, so around the time you expect them to get to him, you’re giddy. You anxiously await a phone call or email any day now.

It’s August when your phone rings with a call from an unknown number. You have had such a long day- school for several hours, then work immediately after in the evening. You can’t help but wonder who could be calling at 9 pm. You make yourself comfy on the couch with your favorite beverage before answering the phone.

“Hello?” 

“Hi, it’s Javi. Is this the right number?”

You nearly choke on your sip of drink, “Oh shit. Hi! Yes, this is the right number!”

Javi laughs from the other end, and you decide you want to hear that laugh again so badly. 

“Sorry I’m calling so late over there. The phone was surprisingly available, and I got your letter today saying I could call. So I did,” Javi said.

“It’s okay,” you shrug, even though he can’t see, “I just got home from work, actually. So perfect timing.”

“Great. How was your day?”

The two of you spend about an hour on the phone, relishing having an actual conversation in real time.

“I’m so glad to finally hear your voice,” Javi says after a natural pause in conversation, “That’s not too cheesy, right?”

You snort, “It kind of is, but it’s cute. I’m glad to hear your voice, too.”

After another ten minutes, Javi sadly admits that he has to hang up since it’s almost dinner time where he is. 

“We should talk again sometime if you’re able to,” you smile, biting at your fingernail nervously.

You hope he calls again, but letters will always suffice just fine.

“I’ll try my best. Maybe sometime next week?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you say, pulling the phone away from your ear so you can silently kick your feet in excitement.

“Alright, then. Talk to you later,” Javi says.

“See ya,” you grin, and the call concludes.

It isn’t the following week that he calls, but the week after that. Javi discloses that he sent a surprise in the letter he just mailed. He also slips up and says it’s almost his birthday, and you immediately have an idea. After your long conversation on the phone, asking some questions here and there about certain things he likes that you didn’t already know before, you decide to send Javi a package.

You send a postcard from your home state, some non-perishable snacks, socks that were his favorite color that he could wear when not on base, notebooks he could write letters in, some fun pens to go with the notebooks, and a birthday card. After signing it, you leave a lip print on the card just to test the waters. You’ve come to really like Javi over the last year, and you wonder if he likes you back. Sometimes, he’ll be flirty in letters or over the phone, but nothing too crazy. Nothing that gives you alarm bells that he likes you in the way that you like him. So, you’re taking a leap of faith. 

A few weeks after sending the package, you get Javi's phone call while doing some class work at your desk. You spin around in the chair aimlessly as you answer the phone.

“A kiss, huh? That’s cute.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little something to remind you of me,” you say.

“It’s definitely not nothing,” Javi teases, “I think you want to kiss me.”

 Your ears grow hot at the sound of Javi’s voice deepening in playfulness.

“And so what if I do? There’s nothing you can do about it,” you bite back with just as much playfulness.

“Are you sure about that?” Javi says, a knowing lilt in his voice.

“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, stopping the chair from spinning entirely so you can focus.

“I’m most likely coming home for Christmas this year, but I still have to work out some stuff,” Javi says, an edge of excitement in his voice, “I’d like to possibly see you.”

“Oh,” you say, your voice squeaking, “Really? You want to see me?”

“Of course I wanna see you,” Javi chuckles, “We’ve been corresponding for a while. I’d like to finally see you in person.”

You suddenly feel like you’re going to throw up, but in a good way. You’re sick with nervous excitement. 

“O-okay,” you grin, “I’ll be finished with the semester at the beginning of December. Depending on when and where you want to meet, I can ask off from work.”

Javi has family not too far from where you live, and he wants to stop and see, so the two of you agree to meet in a city that’s basically halfway. December 20th is the day you’re supposed to meet Javi after a year of conversing through letters and over the phone. Who would have thought, right? That some random idea from your best friend would have led you here? Speaking of which, your best friend is beside themselves with excitement just like you. You called them immediately after hanging up with Javi.

“When you get married, make sure to thank me!” they say half-jokingly.

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes, trying to stifle a grin, “What if we don’t like each other when we meet, though? What if it’s awkward? What if we don’t have anything to talk about? What if-”

“Hush!” your best friend shushes you, “It will go fine. It will go great. In fact, you’re going to have a splendid time.”

“I guess you’re right,” you sigh, eyeballing the photo of Javi you have pinned to your corkboard over your desk.

“I’m always right,” your best friend giggles.

It’s now the end of your semester, and you’re beyond excited for a few reasons. In a week, you meet Javi, and this coming Spring semester is your last. So, for the time being, you’ll be finished with college. You come home from your final exam and start making a packing list. You’re staying at a hotel in the city where you’re meeting Javi for a day or two, depending on how things go. You have so much to do before going on the mini trip that if you didn’t have a list planned out for everything, your head would surely fly off your shoulders. You have to wrap gifts for your friends and family, pack your bag, clean your apartment, and put up decorations for the party you and your best friend are throwing for Christmas. 

Deciding to surprise Javi, you get him a gift for Christmas. It’s a wool sweater you think will fit nicely and a beautiful, deep color that you figure will compliment his skin tone. You carefully put the sweater in a robe box, taping the sides shut and signing your name on the tag before putting it under the Christmas tree. You managed to put up the large tree by your lonesome and didn’t kill yourself doing it, so you considered it a win. After wrapping a few more gifts and stuffing them under your tree, you check the time. It’s a little past dinnertime, and you decide it’s probably best to finally pack your bag for tomorrow. 

A melatonin gummy is definitely in your future so you can get some sleep, or else you’ll toss and turn in an anxious fit all night. After finishing up packing as lightly as you can muster, you settle into bed. When you wake in the morning, you get a text from an unknown number, which you assume is from Javi’s cell, letting you know he is getting on his flight. You almost quite literally jump out of bed before hitting the shower and getting ready. You take your time fixing your hair and makeup, picking out a cute but comfortable outfit for your 2-hour drive. 

After getting your belongings and the gift inside your car, you shoot your best friend a text letting them know you’re leaving your apartment and that you’ll text when you get to the airport. Taking a few deep breaths, you crank your car and head off. You are deep in your thoughts the entire ride, not evening singing along to your music most of the time. What if Javi decides he isn’t impressed by what he sees? You try to push away your anxiety as you near the airport. Finding parking after circling around for a while, you hurry to grab the gift and go inside. It’s hectic, considering it’s five days until Christmas, but you get through TSA without a hitch. You find the coffee shop where you and Javi agreed to meet and sit at a table in the corner. You scroll through social media, trying not to panic. You text back and forth with your best friend for a while until you receive a message from Javi saying he’s landed. Suddenly, an icy, numbing nervousness runs through your veins. You take a deep breath and tell yourself it will be okay, and everything will be fine. 

You decide to meet Javi at his gate and return to the coffee shop. Getting up from your seat, you shake yourself off a little before walking to the gate where Javi is to exit his flight. You aimlessly check your phone every five minutes out of anxiety. People start to leave from the corridor, dragging their carry-ons with them. Suddenly, you spot Javi walking out with the crowd, his face turned downward at his phone. When he looks up, he has to do a double-take when he sees you. You can’t help the grin that plasters your face.

“Hi,” Javi grins back as he approaches you, taking in your appearance fully for the first time, “Is it okay if I hug you?”

“You don't have to ask, silly,” you roll your eyes playfully, setting the gift by your feet before allowing Javi to pull you into him.

You wrap your arms around him, your nose buried in his shoulder. He’s dressed in his uniform, much to your delight, meaning you get to see how handsome he looks in person. 

“Don’t tell me that’s for me,” Javi gives you a jokingly dissatisfied look when he pulls away from you, his eyes darting to the gift beside you. 

“Would you kill me if it was?” you say, picking it up and handing it to him.

“Nah,” Javi waves you off, leaning down to dig in his carry-on for something, “Besides, I got you something, too.”

“Javi,” you drag out his name in annoyance, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did. It’s Christmas,” Javi smiles, secretly enjoying how you say his name in person.

You both go to baggage claim and the coffee shop before opening your gifts. You and Javi match each others’ stride, your hands accidentally brushing against one another a few times. Finally, Javi decides to throw caution to the wind and grabs your hand, sliding his fingers between yours. You glance down before smiling at him, trying to hide how giddy you are from the simple gesture. When you arrive at the coffee shop, you sit in the same corner you were previously in and settle in your seats.

“So,” Javi slides his gift over to you, pulling his toward him, “What’d you get me?”

“Why don’t you open it and see?” you lean over the table in wait, your smile from earlier still not quite leaving your lips.

“That I will do,” Javi says, carefully opening his gift.

“This is a lovely color,” he pulls the sweater out and fully takes it in, “Very soft. You did a great job because I love sweaters.”

“I’m glad you love it,” you sink into your seat with relief.

“Now, open yours,” Javi pushes your gift in your direction with a single finger. 

“Is it going to explode in my face?” you joke as you pull the wrapping off.

“I swear it won’t,” Javi laughs.

You open the box to reveal a beautiful necklace with your birthstone dangling from the chain. 

“This looks expensive, Javi. Please tell me you didn’t spend an arm and a leg on this,” you gasp.

“No promises,” Javi shrugs, getting up from his seat and walking behind you, holding out a hand for the necklace, “May I?”

You gently place the jewelry into his palm, lifting your hair so Javi can put the necklace around your neck. His fingers brush your skin lightly as he clasps the chain successfully, “There we go.”

Javi sits and admires how the necklace falls onto your collarbone with a glimmer in his eyes, “Looks beautiful on you.”

You’re nearly this close to being on the floor, curled into an inconsolable ball. Instead of doing that, you cover your face in embarrassment. 

“Gosh, thank you for the gift, Javi,” you move your hands from your face, “I wasn’t expecting something so stunning. I would’ve gotten you something slightly better if I had known.”

“You can’t sit here and tell me this wool sweater wasn’t pricey enough. It’s okay, you know. Besides, I like giving gifts I know someone will love; the price doesn’t matter.”

You sigh, shaking your head with a smile and resting your chin on your fist, “Whatever you say, Javi.”

Javi mimics your position but reaches his other hand out to wrap it around your wrist gently, “I love it when you say my name.”

You stare at each other momentarily, just taking each other in. It had been a year of wondering what Javi was like in person- how tall he was, how he smelled, how he carried himself. You realize he has a million freckles on his face that you never noticed in the photos he sent. Javi brushes his thumb over your pulse point, and you’re close to losing your composure. You’re both so wrapped up in drinking each other in that you nearly jump out of your skin when the barista calls someone’s name for their order.

You compose yourself, but Javi lightly chuckles at your facial expression.

“I’m super awkward sometimes, but you know that already,” you try to joke about the situation instead of dying of shyness. 

“It’s okay, I think it’s cute.”

“You’re going to make me turn into a puddle if you don’t stop,” you cover your face again, the tips of your ears burning.

Javi just laughs again. You realize his laugh is better in person than over the phone.

Over your order of coffee and iced tea, you and Javi decide to have a proper dinner later on in the day. Both of you are pretty tired and would appreciate refreshing yourselves at your respective hotels first. You hold hands again while exiting the airport and offer Javi a ride to where he’s staying.

“It’s just a walk down the block. I’ll be fine.”

“But it’s cold,” you frown.

“I’ll live, I promise.” Javi pulls your head to his chest before planting a kiss on the top of it.

Your body grows warm at the endearing gesture, “See you later?’

“See you later,” Javi smiles before making his way out of the parking garage.

You immediately call your best friend when you get in the car and discuss how the initial meeting went while on your way to the hotel.

“Did you kiss?!” they squeal.

“Not yet,” you say, “I don’t expect anything to happen today. We held hands, though.”

“Spicy!” your best friend says, “Next thing you know, you’ll be having kids.”

“Will you ever be quiet?” you jokingly ask your best friend.

You take a well-needed nap after checking into the hotel, setting an alarm for an hour from the time you laid down. When you wake up, you notice it’s snowing outside. The place Javi wants to take you is a few blocks away from his and your hotels, and you figure you’ll enjoy the snow during your walk.

You fix your makeup a little and add some final touches here and there to your face and hair before deciding on one of the skirts you brought. A thick sweater and some tights are thrown with it, and you’re ready to go. Javi shoots you a message asking if you’re ready, and you respond quickly before leaving the hotel. The evening is pleasant, with the snow falling softly for the entire duration of your walk. When you arrive at the restaurant, Javi is waiting for you at the door, as handsome as ever in some black slacks, a dress shirt, and a heavy petticoat draped over his shoulders. He wraps an arm around you as you both enter the restaurant, where you’re immediately whisked away to a table with a nice view. Wine is ordered, and you take a moment to drink Javi in as he sits across from you. You nearly have to pinch yourself to believe this is real and actually happening.

“So,” you lean forward, hand tucked under your chin, “You never told me about your endeavors while in college. I’ve been dying to know about that storm chasing you brought up but never knew when to ask.”

Javi smiles, “Yes, it was a very wild time in my life. I don’t talk about it often. What did you want to know?”

“Why did you do it? Just curious.”

“Well, Javi clears his throat, “It was actually my best friend Kate’s idea. She had this big project that required extensive information about storms and tornadoes in particular.”

“Gotcha,” you lean back in your chair, “Ever see any scary storms?”

“We saw a few, but the scariest one was a five on the Fujita scale. It didn’t end very well for us,” Javi casts his eyes down.

“You don’t have to keep talking about it if you don’t want to,” you reach out your hand to put on top of Javi’s, sensing the topic is touchy.

“No, it’s something you need to know about me. So I’ll tell you,” he explains, “It was me, Kate, and three of our other friends, Addy, Praveen, and Jeb, working on the project together. We didn’t anticipate the tornado to be as strong as it got, and everyone but Kate and I ended up dying as a result of being caught in the storm.”

“I’m so sorry, Javi. That sounds scary and awful. I’m glad you made it through that,” you frown, and Javi meets your eyes for a moment.

“Sometimes I wonder why I’m one of the ones who survived. It bothered me a lot, so much that I decided to drop out of college and go into the military. I needed some stability in my life after that.”

“I understand,” you say, “We can talk about something else if you’d like. I know this is probably hard for you to think about.”

The rest of the evening is spent laughing over stories of Javi and his late friends and the ones he’s made in the military. You tell him wild stories of you and your best friend, some of which he couldn’t believe. After a few too many glasses of wine, the two of you decide to call it a night. 

“I had a wonderful time,” you say as Javi hooks your arm with his, and the two of you leave the restaurant.

It’s still snowing lightly, and the temperature has dropped significantly. You pull your coat closer to your chest. Javi notices and opts to wrap his arm around you, pulling you into his side to warm you. 

“I had a great time, too,” Javi grins. 

He walks you to your hotel, and you thank him for dinner. 

“Heading out in the morning?” you ask as the two of you stand outside the hotel entrance.

“Yes,” Javi says, his hands shoved into his coat pockets, “I’m seeing my aunt and uncle and then heading to Miami for my parents and sister.”

“That’s good,” you nod, “I am having a Christmas party with some friends and family in a  few days, and I’m looking forward to it.”

“Sounds fun,” Javi says, and you notice the two of you don’t really want to depart quite yet, but you must.

“You should probably get back. It’s getting cold and late,” you nudge Javi’s arm with yours.

“Yeah, I should,” he trails off, his eyes not leaving yours.

For a moment, you stare into Javi’s eyes, taking in their color and the length of his eyelashes. Before you realize it, you’re both leaning in. Javi slides his hand up your neck to cup your face, his skin warm despite the freezing air. He guides your face to his, his eyes fluttering shut as he gently presses his lips to yours. Your eyes close, too, and you allow Javi to take control of the kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. When it’s time for air, you both pull away.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Javi whispers, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile.

“Same here,” you say, playing with the curls at the nape of Javi’s neck.

“I should get going,” Javi frowns, “But I will definitely keep in touch the best I can over the next few days.”

“Okay,” you say, “Enjoy your Christmas.”

Javi begins to walk away, and you turn to go inside your hotel. But then Javi pauses, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Wait, what are you doing New Year's Eve?” he asks, and you can’t help the grin that sneaks up on your face.

“Depends. What are you doing?”

“Anything with you.”

[callme-holly]

Can you do a three times the gang almost caught and the one time they did with two dal or steve

But the reader is also a Curtis? Like their sister?

𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭, 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 [𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐝]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - i'm so sorry this took so long omg. I'm really trying to be faster but my attention span is so short and I just can't sit down for longer than 10 mins. I will probably also end up writing this sort of fic for Two-bit and Steve too, only bc I have literally nothing for them yet lmaoo. Anyways, hope ya'll enjoy and as always my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 3.5k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mild swearing, mentions of fighting

0.1 - more charm than sense 

The Curtis home is unusually quiet; everyone either out or at work. 

The radio plays on low, some commercial station that only seems to play the same ten songs before switching back to the first and replaying them all without end. 

You’re standing in front of the sink, towel in hand, and as you clean up the remnants of breakfast, your brother’s dirty plates are dumped haphazardly atop the counter in a less than neat pile. The water runs clear under your steady hands, and for a moment you forget that you aren’t entirely alone in the house, too focused on cleaning up to notice anything further than the sound of your own breathing and the light static of the radio.

You're so lost in thought that you barely register the lingering presence behind you, only startling once a familiar pair of arms wind themselves around your waist from behind, the familiar scent of cigarette smoke and cheap, most likely stolen, cologne filling your senses. Lips are pressed against the base of your neck, and a chin rests on your shoulder. The sudden weight is warm and familiar. 

“I thought ya invited me over to spend some time with me, doll, not clean.” Dallas drawls, his voice rough and his accent heavy. You can feel him smile into your skin as you sigh, letting go of the cloth in favour of turning towards him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His hands fall to your hips, and his thumbs trace lazy patterns into your skin. 

“I didn’t invite you, Dal,” You raise your brows, “You climbed in through my window.” 

Dallas laughs lowly in response, shrugging nonchalantly as he drops a kiss on the corner of your lips. “Didn't expect ya to be so preoccupied.” He trails off, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and nipping lightly along your jawline. “Thought I’d be gettin’ more attention than this.” 

You roll your eyes fondly in response, but don’t move away as he continues peppering kisses down your jaw and collar, your hands wandering idly to the hem of your shirt. You’re quick to slap him away, fixing him with a warning look. He just grins lazily, leaning in close enough to press his lips just below your ear. 

“Dallas.” Your tone is stern, and it has absolutely no effect whatsoever on the greaser, who merely hums in reply, hands moving back to your waist to pull you closer. “Not here.”

Dallas’ grip tightens for a moment, and he pulls back, tilting his head to the side. “C’mon, doll… You’re brothers are gone; what’s there to worry about?” There’s a wicked grin on his lips as he steps away from you and leans against the kitchen counter, watching you carefully. 

It had been a mutual agreement to hide your relationship from the gang, a decision made to spare you from the headache Darry would no doubt give you and the black eye Dallas would receive for even thinking about touching you. You knew it was stupid to try hiding things from the gang, especially when they could see right through you like nobody else did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell them.

Darry would probably skin you if he found out you were dating a hood like Dally, and you didn’t want to risk it. 

“There’s plenty to worry about,” you conclude, turning back to the sink. “What if Two-Bit or Johnny decide they wanna pay little old me a visit, huh, and they catch us here in the kitchen?” 

Dallas chuckles before placing his hands on your shoulders, leaning in close to whisper directly into your ear, “They won’t catch us, darlin’. They haven’t yet.” His hands begin to wander once more, and you drain the sink with a sigh, trying to find what little composure you have left to resist him and his words. He's relentless, damn him, and you know better than to hope for any sort of peace and quiet when you're home and alone.

His lips continue to trail a line down your neck, mouthing teasingly along the sensitive skin before moving back to your lips. This time, however, you give in, your fingers threading into his hair as you meet his eager advance. 

It's almost too easy to lose yourself in the haze of the moment, so much so that you hardly notice the thumping of footsteps on the porch until the screen door opens suddenly and Sodapop’s voice rings out.

“Y/N! You here?” His voice is loud with excitement as always, and you’re quick to jump away from Dallas, your eyes wide with surprise. 

“What the hell?” You hiss, glancing around the room frantically before spotting before your gaze lands on the bathroom door. You shove Dallas towards it, mumbling under your breath as you do so. “Get your ass outta here.” He snorts quietly, following your gaze and pressing a kiss to your cheek before closing the door behind him just as Soda rounds the corner in search of you. He beams brightly, and you let out a sigh of relief. 

“You’re home early…” You start, and he shrugs, heading to the dining table to grab his lunch which is still sitting where you’d left it out this morning. 

“Forgot this,” He holds up the bag and you roll your eyes internally. Typical. 

“You know,” You head back to the sink, taking out the now-clean dishes and stacking them back in the cupboard. “Sometimes I wonder how you’ve lived this long.” 

Soda smirks and raises an eyebrow, backing towards the door, lunch now in hand. “What can I say? What I lack in sense, I make up for in charm.” He winks, flashing a cocky grin as he leaves the house, the door banging shut behind him.

You watch to make sure he's completely gone before jogging to the bathroom and throwing open the door. “I told you this would happen.” You start, but stop short when you see that the room is empty.

The only sign that anybody had even been in here in the first place is the open window, the lingering scent of cigarette smoke, and that stupid cheap cologne that lingers in the air.

“Goddamnit, Winston…”  You huff, shaking your head and walking over to pull the window shut. 

0.2 - some unwanted visitors  

There’s a slight chill in the air; the summer nights slowly beginning to turn cooler as fall begins its slow, sleepy crawl across the state. 

Dallas has an arm thrown lazily over your shoulders, a cigarette dangling between his lips as he presses close, and a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. You lean into him slightly, savouring the warmth surrounding him and feeling content in his hold. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, neither wanting to break it nor quite being comfortable staying silent either.

“So... I suppose you're wanted back before curfew, huh?” Dallas eventually drawls, shifting slightly to lean his head against yours. You let out a small laugh, leaning further into him and  allowing your cheek to rest against his chest.

“You know it,” You murmur, and he hums, his fingers tracing little circles on the small of your back absentmindedly. “Darry thinks I'm out with friends again, so you’ll have to drop me off at the end of the street.”

The greaser frowns at that, a faint crease forming between his brows. “I ain’t lettin’ you out of my sight, doll, 'specially not this late.” He looks almost offended that you'd even suggest such an idea, and you shake your head, looking up at him. 

“Dal, I can handle myself. I don’t need you watching my ass 24/7.” 

He rolls his eyes, giving you an indignant scoff. “You ain’t got to act all high and mighty, doll. You know I ain’t going to let you walk alone.” He leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers the next part. “Besides, we both know you like it when I watch your ass.” He pulls back then, grinning wildly when you roll your eyes dramatically, pushing him away. 

“Whatever, Winston,” You mutter, a coy smile tugging at the corners of your lips as he reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together loosely. “But seriously, though, I’ll be fine.” 

Dallas simply grunts, choosing to drop the subject, giving you no further argument. You know he’ll still insist on walking you to your porch, regardless of whether your brothers spot you or not.

He thrives on adrenaline and the thrill of getting caught is just too much for him to resist. 

You both turn back to the movie playing on screen—some old beach movie with a plot no different from every other. It's cliche and unrealistic, but you're willing to put up with it just so you and Dallas can spend time together without hiding. 

It's not until halfway through the movie that you spot a familiar pair of faces making their way towards your row of seats, too caught up in their debate to spot you. Dallas currently has his head buried in the crook of your neck, the movie long since forgotten as he trails kisses along your jawline, and you're barely keeping your attention focused on the screen.

“Dal,” Your tone is hard, and you elbow him sharply in the ribs, eliciting an annoyed groan. “We’ve got company.” 

Dallas turns to glance towards the end of your row, and, sure enough, there stands none other than your brother Ponyboy Curits and Two-Bit Mathews, both of whom are yet to notice you both. 

“Shit,” He growls under his breath, arm slipping from around your shoulder as he turns his body away from them. “What’re they doin’ here?” 

You give him a half-hearted shrug, scanning the area for a way out and coming up short. The closest exits are the ones closest to your brother and Two-Bit, and you have no doubt that they’ll spot you if you try to make a break for it.

You're about to suggest going the long way and cutting through the crowds when suddenly someone comes up behind you, hands slamming into your shoulders and your voice cutting through your internal panic.

“Y/N Curtis!”

You whip your head around, meeting the gaze of Two-Bit, who is grinning like a madman. Dallas lets out a grunt of irritation, crossing his arms over his chest and shooting the two boys a cold look.

“What’d you want?” He snaps, and Ponyboy frowns, looking over at you curiously.

“I thought you told Darry you were out with friends tonight?” 

Your eyes widen, and your face heats instantly. “Well…” You trail off. “There was a change of plans.” 

Pony raises an eyebrow, seemingly sceptical at your words, as Two sits himself down in the seat beside you, stretching out and taking a sip from his drink. Dallas says nothing, his expression darkening, and you feel him tense up beside you. 

There's an awkward pause, broken only by the crackling audio of the movie, before Dal huffs impatiently and rises from his chair. He shoots you a look, and you instantly understand, standing in your own chair. 

“We’re going to go grab some drinks.” You state this before turning on your heel and following Dallas away from the seats, weaving through the rows until you find a secluded spot, away from the larger crowds and the prying eyes of the two greasers.

Ponyboy and Two-Bit watch to both go, frowning in confusion before Two raises a brow. “They seem pretty close.”

Pony shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “My sister isn’t stupid enough to date a hood like Dally.”

Oh, how wrong they are…  

0.3 - who’s jacket is that? 

You’re at the DX, leaning back against one of the gas pumps as you listen to whatever wild story Steve is telling you. His hands flail around dramatically, and you nod along slowly, only half paying attention as Dallas comes to stand beside you, a cigarette hanging lazily between his lips. 

He doesn't speak, simply resting a subtle hand against your lower back, his fingers drawing lazy patterns into your skin. Your mind races, and you take note of the people around you. How could any of your friends notice the small display of affection happening between the two of you? But they all seem too caught up in their own conversations to notice. 

Steve’s voice cuts through your thoughts just then, drawing you from your reverie and your attention away from Dallas. 

“And then she tosses her milkshake right in this asshole’s face and leaves!” You have no idea what he's talking about, but let out a small laugh regardless, at least trying to look somewhat interested in what he’s saying.

Dallas shifts a little next to you; the pressure of his hand is now more noticeable against your lower back, and you know that he knows you're distracted. You can almost sense the smirk he’s holding back, and you resist the urge to turn and glare at him, instead focusing back on Steve and the other boys, their mindless chatter continuing for a few moments longer before Johnny speaks up, his tone laced with curiosity.

“Hey, Y/N, is that a new jacket?” 

You turn to stare at the boy, brows furrowed in confusion. “Huh?” You glance down, and you swear your heart stops for a moment. You're still wearing Dallas' jacket. Shit. 

Quickly, you clear your throat, hoping that the colour flooding your cheeks isn’t too obvious. “Oh… Uh–” By now, all eyes are on you; the previous conversation has long been forgotten in favour of watching you intently. It’s uncomfortable, and just as you’re about to offer up a poor attempt at an answer, Steve pipes up again, his brow furrowed. 

“Ain’t that your jacket, Dal?” He looks over at the greaser beside you, and Dallas hums, taking another drag of his cigarette. There’s a small smirk on his face, his eyes flickering down at you before he gives a shrug, blowing out a thin cloud of smoke. 

“Dunno. Could be.” He states this nonchalantly, hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans and slouching against the gas pump. “It looks awfully similar.” 

You swallow hard, averting your gaze as the gang glances back over at you, all sharing the same confused expressions. It seems Dallas isn't going to offer up any more on the subject, so with a few heavy sighs, everyone seems to drop it, returning to their previous conversations. 

Letting out a small sigh of relief, you turn to look up at Dallas, who is still grinning smugly. His hand rests comfortably on your back once more, his fingers resuming their rhythmic pattern, and you allow your shoulders to relax a little, knowing he’ll tease you relentlessly later on. 

“They look awfully comfortable.” Steve remarks quietly, nodding his head in yours and Dallas's general direction. It seems your fond expression for the hood hasn’t gone unnoticed, and Soda snorts, nudging his buddy in the ribs. 

“What’re you talking about?” He raises a brow, taking a rag from his pocket and wiping off the oil staining his hands. His attention moves to you and Dallas, a knowing look spreading across his features as he watches the two of you interact and an impossibly soft look in Dally’s eyes as you talk to him. 

He can’t help but notice the jacket once more, how it’s just a little too big on you, and how it looks a little too much like Dallas’s to just be a coincidence. No, there’s no doubt in his mind about who exactly owns it, and if the smug smirk tugging at the corners of Dallas’ lips is anything to go by, then maybe, just maybe, Steve is right. 

Things are slowly starting to add up. 

0.4 - caught...

It’s early evening, and the sun is sinking low in the sky, casting dim rays of golden light throughout the room. It’s peaceful; the excitable chatter of the gang in the living room fills the air, muffled by your closed door. 

Dallas has his head resting in your lap, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers as he blows smoke out through your open window. His eyes are closed tight, bruises and cuts litter his face, and his skin is stained with blood and dirt. He doesn’t speak, merely wincing as your fingertips trail over his wounds, stopping occasionally to press gentle kisses to his hair. 

There’s a nasty gash above his eye, the blood trickling freely in little rivulets, and you wipe at it lightly with a wad of gauze, the sting of the alcohol drawing a pained grunt from the greaser.

“Do ya have to do that?” 

You give him a sympathetic smile, brushing your lips over his forehead tenderly. “Sorry,” you mutter, running your fingers through his matted hair. “I’m almost done.” 

Dallas doesn't move; he just stays silent, letting you dab gently at his injuries, his expression unreadable.

You never know how he's going to act after a rumble. Sometimes, he's fine, joking around and teasing with the others, but then there’s those small moments where the tension from the fight doesn’t dissipate, where he sits in complete silence, letting you work without complaint. 

These are the times when you worry, when it becomes obvious that he is hurting. He won’t tell you, not directly at least, but you know something's wrong. You can tell in the way he holds onto you, his face hidden from view, as his hands grip desperately at the fabric of your shirt. 

“Dal,” You murmur softly, and your tone is soft and soothing. “Talk to me.” Your fingers trail softly through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp, and you notice his shoulders drop a little. He exhales heavily, pressing his cheek against your thigh, his eyes closed tightly.

“Not right now,” His voice is thick and rough, and words slurred slightly as he struggled to stay awake. Your eyebrows furrow as a soft sigh escapes your lips, reaching your free hand out to brush over his bruised jaw. It's rare to see him so vulnerable and obviously upset, and it hurts knowing that he will bottle things up and hide them away until he’s forced to let it all out. 

You don’t push, though. Instead, you take his hand in yours, running your thumb over his bruised knuckles as you lay back against the pillows. The movement causes Dallas to shift slightly, and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close, and he drifts off within seconds. 

You let your slip shut, allowing yourself to drift easily along with him, content to lay here with him and wait patiently until he’s ready to talk. 

“Hey, where’s Dally and Y/N?” Pony’s voice breaks through the cheerful laughter of the gang as they bounce around the living room, most still high on adrenaline and excitement, only slowing down slightly once the question reaches their ears. 

They all glanced about the space, their eyes scanning over every possible corner, before coming to rest with each other, sharing the same look of confusion. 

Darry pushes himself up from his chair with a sigh, tossing the first-aid kit in his lap to Soda, who catches it with ease. “Y/N is in her room. She might know where Dallas is.” The gang all watches as he heads down the hall, stopping just outside your door to knock softly. 

When there's no response, he frowns, glancing back towards the gang before knocking again. Still nothing. With a quick shrug, he turns the doorknob gently, pushing open the door and peeking inside.

Your bedroom is dark except for the faint glow emanating from your desk lamp, which illuminates the walls with a soft pale glow. Darry is about to call out to you, about to question you on where Dallas is, when he spots the hood in question asleep with his head in your lap. 

His breath hitches, and he pauses, his gaze wandering to you, your fingers threaded through his blonde locks. 

“Soda. Pony.” Darry calls quietly, catching both brothers’ attention immediately as he speaks. “Get over here.”

The two boys scramble up from their places on the couch, racing across the room and peering into your darkened room curiously, their eyes widening at the sigh before them.

“Well, damn.” Sodapop lets out a low whistle as the rest of the gang come up behind them. Two-Bit lets out a short laugh, and Steve cuts him off with a sharp elbow to the ribs. “I told you,” the former whispers, grinning broadly. “I told you they had something going on!” 

The group all share a look, the sound of Darry clearing his throat echoing in the quiet house. Slowly, he backs out of the room. closing the door once more and letting out a breath. 

There are words that will need to be had, promises that need to be made, but he supposes that can wait for another time. Right now, he'll let you and Dallas have your moment because it seems it's been long awaited. And it certainly has.

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[imaginesandsmut]

So Good

Paring: Ethan Landry x fem reader

Summary: You and Ethan had hated each other since you too met, but when you're at a party dancing with a frat boy, Ethan takes it upon himself to show who you really belong to.

Warnings: Alcohol, smutty smut smut, and some fluff at the end.

Writers note: This was requested by @kianachampion and was definitely a great idea. Don't be shy to send fic ideas my way, ya'll. But anyways, enjoy xx

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You laughed whilst trying to steady your hand, the mascara wand shaking from your movements. The music in Tara’s bedroom was louder than any concert you have ever been to, pounding in your ears and causing you to go slightly deaf.

“Okay but I’m serious,” Tara yelled over the music, “if you don’t wear this skirt, I will kill you. You’ll look so good.”

You turned in your seat at Tara’s desk, turning to see her hold up the shortest skirt of your life. It was tiny, denim, pleated and with a chain dangling from one loop to another. It was cute but you didn’t know if you could pull it off, your ass would definitely be seen if you so much as lifted your arms.

“Please.” Tara tried her puppy dog eyes, pouting her lip in an effort to win you over. “I can’t be the only one wearing something slutty.”

“So you admit it’s too short!” You laugh at her attempt at playing cute.

“It is!” Tara walked over to her bottle of vodka and took a swig, swaying to the music. “But no one will care, it’s a frat party for god sake.”

You both were getting ready for the next rager at whatever Kappa Kappa Fi house it was at, most likely filled with the same people but during this exam season, everyone is looking to blow off some steam. 

You could hear Mindy and Anika singing to the song through the walls, they were both in the living room preparing drinks for everybody. Chad and Ethan were somewhere in the apartment, probably hyping each other up by calling each other snacks and grunting.

You turned back to the mirror and inspected your makeup, satisfied with the results you got up and took the mini skirt from Tara’s hand. She clapped her hands dramatically with glee as you took off your sweatpants and replaced them with the skirt, suddenly feeling very cold. 

“You look hot.” She pushed you towards the mirror to inspect yourself. The skirt looked nice, your legs looked nice too. You paired it with a graphic baby tee and your beat up tennis shoes.

“You look good too.” You turned to Tara and took the bottle from her, taking a swig as she smiled and twirled her short dress for you. 

You enjoyed these moments with your best friend, just smiling and happy. You both met in your first class of University, you were nervous because you hadn’t made any friends in the city yet but the spot next to Tara was empty and you were feeling bold. She smiled at you when you sat down, you smiled back and it was the beginning of your friendship. 

“Can you two hurry up now!” Mindy yelled from the kitchen, her voice much louder than the music.

You and Tara giggled at each other, both already buzzed from the few swigs of alcohol. You both left her room and joined the group in the living room, they were all drinking and laughing together. It was moments like this that made you really love your friends.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

Except for one.

Ethan was taking in your appearance, a red solo cup filled with whatever alcoholic slushie Anika has made for everyone. His outburst caused everyone to look at you, all of them looking you up and down.

“Damn, you’re hot.” Mindy 

“Thank you, Mindy.” You send a scowl at Ethan, the boy sipping his drink with a crease between his eyebrows.

Ever since you became friends with Tara, you became friends with the rest of her friends. The only person you can’t get along with at all is Ethan, he annoys you to knew end and he lets you know that the feeling is mutual. Constantly bickering with each other and fighting over anything possible. Anything that he could make a snide remark about, he does.

“You’re gonna get cold.” Ethan’s voice was a mumble, like he was annoyed with your own choice of clothing. 

“I’ll be fine.” You cross the room and grab a drink from Anika, downing it in one go. With just a few words, he managed to get on your nerves and fill you with a need to punch him in the face.

“I’m just saying that it’s just a frat party, not a fashion show.” Ethan continued his attack on you.

“Oh my god, It’s not like you have to wear it.” You turned to look at him, crossing your arms defensively. 

“If you bend over everyone is gonna see your ass.”

"So what?" You ask, annoyed and confused as to why he would care.

"God why do you need to be so uptight about everything?" He takes a swig of his drink whilst still taking in your appearance. "You need to loosen up."

"I would if you weren't around."

“Okay!” Tara claps her hands loudly, shutting you both up. “Let’s go.”

The whole walk towards the frat party was filled with you and Tara laughing over something whilst Mindy rambles about the newest Stab movie. But all you could focus on was Ethan walking behind you, way too close behind you. He kept bumping into you from behind and not even apologising for it, just shrugging when you told him off. It wasn't long till you reached the party, pushing your way through the crowd and towards the drinks table, shaking Ethan off your tail.

"Go find some boring person to talk about movies with." You shout at him over the music as he tried following you through the crowd. It was annoying how much he fought with you yet still followed you around, an endless torture cycle.

"I'm just waiting for you to fall and show your ass to the entire party." He shouted back, his frame towering over you.

"God I don't care, just leave."

"I'm not leaving." Ethan looked around the party, obviously trying to find a place for you both to go so you could fight even more. "Let's go to the kitchen over there."

Before he could turn back to face you, you slipped away from his sight and hid behind a group of people. You watched Ethan turn back to where you were supposed to be, the wildy look around to find you. He gave up after a bit and huffed in annoyance, walking over to the kitchen and talking to Chad.

You walked over to another area of the house, hoping to be free of the ever irritating Ethan Landry. The pool table came into your sights and was loaded with bottles, ice and cans. You grabbed the first closed cap you could find and cracked it open, taking a swig and almost gagging at the taste.

“They’re not very good.” A voice behind you spoke, it was slurred but confident. You turned and took in the most stereotypical looking frat boy in your life, complete with the unbuttoned shirt and backwards cap. 

Normally, you would wave boys like him off. But you were tipsy and looking to have some fun tonight, so you played into his trap.

“Then what do you recommend?” You put on your most charming smile for him, completed with a slight tip of your head.

“I would try this.” He beamed at you, reaching over and grabbing a bottle from the table. “It tastes like Fanta.”

You take the drink from him and take a sip, nodding your head at the taste. He take your approval with a grin, nodding his own head. 

“I’m Luke.”

“I’m Y/N.” 

“Do you wanna dance, Y/N?” Luke seemed nice and charming, and he wants to dance with you which gives you a big ego boost. “You look so good, I just have to ask.”

You take his hand and let him guide you to the dancefloor in the centre of the house, bodies upon bodies push up against each other in momentum to the song. Luke pulls you close to him, his hands on your hips and moving them with his own. You put your arms around his neck and pull him close, your faces close enough to feel his breath on your cheek.

You look around the room whilst dancing to see what everyone else is doing; Tara was talking to a girl from your classes, Chad was playing beer pong, and Mindy and Anika were already making out on the couch. You looked around subconsciously for Ethan, trying to find him through the crowd.

It was then that you caught his eyes, an ever present scowl across his features. Ethan was sitting on the nearest couch, someone was talking to him but all he could do was focus on you and how close you were to this random frat guy. The drink in his hand long forgotten, the red solo cup gradually getting squeezed harder and harder with every sway of your hips against the guy. 

You don’t know what came over you, maybe it was the drinks in your system or the dark look Ethan was giving you, but you decided to put on a show. You turned around in Luke’s arms and pressed your back against his chest, moving your ass against his crotch. The infamous short skirt began riding up with every movement you were making, letting you get bolder and bolder. 

You threw your head back and rested it on Luke’s shoulder, looking to the side to make eye contact with Ethan. You could see him shaking his head at you, obviously annoyed about something like he always is. He was leaning back on the couch, arms crossed against his chest, manspreading like owns the place.

Luke was gripping you harder, his breathing heavy as he groaned at your movement in your ear. You smiled to yourself for doing this to him, but you felt like it was all wrong, like he wasn't the person you wanted him to be.

“Can’t believe I haven’t seen you around before.” Luke’s voice was low, distracted by everything you’ve been doing. 

You don’t reply, you felt mechanic against Luke, like his very touch made you feel wrong in every way. Your eyes kept drifting to Ethan, trying to peek at his reaction. The boy in question was now resting his elbows on his knees, bent over and giving every bit of his attention to what you were doing.

His jaw was tense, like he was going to crack a tooth from the pressure. His eyes were dark and focused, like nothing else in the world cared to him but watching you. The person next to him kept rambling on about whatever conversation they were previously on, but Ethan didn’t care. 

Ethan didn’t know what was coming over him, it was like he was taken over by a force of anger and jealousy. Everytime he was with the group, you annoyed him to no end and he made sure you knew it. He never once thought of you in any way but the annoying girl in the group. But now, seeing you dance with another guy, all he wanted was to grab you and pull you onto the couch with him. 

Luke’s lips attached themselves to your neck since you already had it stretched out trying to get a look at Ethan. His breath was hot and his lips felt weird on your skin, like he was trying too hard to make it sensual but it felt rushed and timid. You pretended to lean into it, like it was what you wanted.

That’s what set off Ethan.

He pushed himself off from the couch and made his way through the crowd, not even looking at the people he moved out of his way. You could feel him getting closer, like there was a pull he had on you and you could tell when he was away or too close.

A hand reached out and pulled you from Luke, earning a gasp from you and an annoyed yell from him. Ethan was gripping onto your arm like you were going to disappear, his eyes stared at you with disgust. 

“Hey, what the fuck, man?” Luke threw his arms up, confused as to why someone would interrupt him.

“Don’t touch her.” Ethan stopped looking at you and turned his attention on the frat boy, yet his grip on your arm never ceased. 

“Why? You her boyfriend or something?” Luke laughed, pushing Ethan’s chest.

“No, he’s not.” You tried to wiggle your arm out of Ethan’s hold but with every movement you made, his hold on you tightened. You’re sure that you’re gonna get bruises soon if he doesn’t let go. 

Ethan sent daggers your way at your outburst, like it was anything far from the truth and he was surprised by it. Luke laughed at your reply and stepped closer to Ethan, challenging him. 

“So what are you? Some sad friend that couldn't get any from her?” Luke’s voice was mean and his demeanour was scary, different from the charming way he was talking to you. It reminded you why you steer clear of guys like him at parties, and now Ethan’s hold was feeling a little more comforting. 

Ethan didn’t say anything to Luke, instead he just turned to look at you. You looked back at him but you couldn’t describe the look in his eyes, like he had someone to tell you but couldn’t voice it.

“Let’s go.” His voice was small and quiet, but demanding.

“She’s not going anywhere.” Luke was looking at you expectantly, like he was waiting for you to shrug off Ethan.

You looked back at Ethan, he wasn't waiting for you to say anything, probably preparing to drag you away no matter what you said. You could feel some eyes on the three of you, watching to see what would happen. You turned to Luke and apologised before pushing on Ethan’s chest and taking him into the nearest private room.

You shut the door behind both of you, effectively shutting out the party and the music. You looked around the room, a small study with books lining the walls. It would be nice if you weren’t pissed off.

You looked at Ethan who could only look down at his feet, a wave of nervousness overtaking the confident facade he just had on.

“What is wrong with you tonight?” You tried to keep your voice down but the anger was bubbling over the surface.

Ethan didn’t even look at you, just shrugging his shoulders in response.

“You have been acting like a total dick all night, more than usual.” You continue, running your hands through your hair. “And now you’re being a dick to others, seriously? Why do you have to ruin everything good in my life?”

Still, no answer.

“Are you going to say something?”

It was a quick decision for Ethan, one that he's been wanting to do for ages but had only seemed to have gotten the courage to do it now. He made the few steps towards you, closing the gap and reaching up to cup your face, all before crashing his lips onto yours.

It was sudden, him pressing his lips onto yours. You wanted to fight, to push him away and tell him off. You wanted to tell him off for the whole night and all of his antics, but you stayed still and let him kiss you. It was hungry, feverish, like he was expecting you to push him away and he knew it was going to be the last time.

It wasn’t until you slipped your hands into his hair and pulled him closer that he finally relaxed, moaning into your mouth and pushing his body closer to yours. He backed you up against the door, pressing his hips to yours to cage you in.

You hated yourself for what you were doing, knowing that you might hate yourself in the morning. But right now, kissing Ethan, it was all you wanted.

“Couldn’t handle seeing you with that other guy.” He whispered against your lips, kissing you between almost every word.

You didn’t say anything, just wanting to live in this moment forever because you didn’t know how long it’ll last, he might start fighting with you as soon as you back away. You tugged on his curls, earning a groan from him and a thrust of his hips against yours. It was getting hotter and heavier every moment that your mouths were on each other, losing all thoughts of how much you were supposed to hate him. 

“The only way I thought you’d look at me was if I was mean to you.” Ethan’s lips latched themselves onto your neck, sucking and biting every bit of skin he could get to. “But seeing you with him, I just wanted him to know that you’re mine.”

“Ethan.” It was like you were dumb, you couldn’t think of anything else but his mouth on your neck and his hands on your hips, gripping them as if you were going to run away.

“If you knew how much I wanted you, you would have ran away.” He was rambling, speaking to you as if you weren’t listening. 

“I wanted you too.” Maybe it was the drinks or the dancing, but your tongue felt loose and you split every thought you had to him. “I did all of that for you.”

He couldn’t say anything else, too turned on by your words and your hands tugging on his hair. His hands moved down to your thighs, gripping the exposed skin and chuckling at how you were trying to stifle your moans. His hands trail upwards underneath the skirt and to your underwear, caressing your hips with his thumbs.

“This fucking skirt.” His mouth moved to hover just above yours, your neediness made it almost impossible to focus on his words. “I wanted to rip it off you the moment I saw it, tried blocking you from everyone on the street during the walk here.”

“Is that why you hate it?” You chuckled, caressing his cheeks and taking in how pretty he really was for the first time. “Because you love it so much?”

“I wanted to take you back into Tara’s room and show you a reason why you shouldn’t wear it.” His eyes were laser focused on you, you were almost scared to look away. “Now I guess I’ll have to show you here.”

“What do you mean?”

Before any more words could leave your mouth, Ethan’s thigh wedged its way between your legs, the rough material of his jeans pressing against the flimsy fabric of your thin underwear. Your moan caught you by surprise, Ethan grinned wildly at it and was determined to hear more, 

“Want you to get off on my leg.” His voice was low and hesitant, like he was waiting to see how you would react to him being demanding with you when you would normally tell him off. But all you could do was nod and start grinding on his thigh, the jean material rubbing against your clit and causing you to go a little hazy.

Ethan was much taller than you so his thigh between your legs caused you to stand practically on your tippy toes, the only anchor you had was his shoulders. You nails dug into his skin through the fabric of his shirt, using them to help you drag your pussy over his thigh. The sensation was making you desperate, you could feel him flexing his thigh every time you moved your hips forward, making then feeling on your clit so much better. 

“If only the group could see how needy you are for me.” Ethan’s hands were on your jaw, holding your head up so he could see your face properly, grinning to himself at how your face scrunches up every time your clit feels a particularly good part of his thigh. “They would be so surprised to know that all that hate you had for me was just masking your true feelings.”

“What feelings are those?” Your voice was breathy and almost silent, you had never felt like this before.

“The feeling of wanting to fuck me, wanting me to fuck you.” Ethan’s lips ghosted your cheeks, kissing them after every moan you tried to silence. “If only you told me earlier, baby, that you wanted me. I would have helped you out, I will do anything for you.”

You don’t know why but those words spurred you on, causing you to pick up your pace and grind yourself on his thigh faster. Ethan could see you needed help and placed his hands on your hips, ready to help you. But before he did anything, he stopped you, much to your dismay as you let him know with a needy whine.

“Tell me you want me.” His voice was no longer cute and joking, he was serious. 

“Ethan.” You whined and tried to move your hips again, but his hold on you was too strong and bruising. 

“Tell me that you’re mine.”

You looked at him, his eyes dark and tough. As much as you two bickered and fought, he had never looked at you like this, it scared you a little. But the way he was holding you, the words he was speaking, it was all so hypnotic that all you could do was follow his instructions.

“I’m yours, Ethan.” It scared you more that you knew you meant it, you had known it for a long time but this was the first time admitting it. “I have always been. Now please, make me feel good.”

The last part was what got Ethan, the desperation in your voice and the way your hands clung to his hair like he was all you needed in the world, it felt him with a sense of pride. His hands started moving your hips for you, helping you drag yourself over his thigh. It was all so delicious, the feeling of your own lace underwear and his rough denim on your sensitive clit, the groans he was letting go in your ear, his lips on your shoulder blade.

“You look so good, baby.” 

You smiled at the compliment, biting your lip as your eyes closed. The sight made Ethan almost cum there, how happy and hot you looked riding his thigh. He could look at your face all day.

Then, Ethan picked up his pace, dragging your hips over him with a new found speed, added to the sensation of him flexing and bouncing his knee to stimulate your pussy even more. One of his hands left your hip and went under your top and bra, groping your boob and tugging your nipple. 

It was all too much; the feeling of him on your clit, his cold fingers pinching your nipples and his mouth sucking hickies on your neck. You swore that if you had any thoughts apart from you and him, you would be embarrassed that the party was hearing how loud your moans were.

Ethan could tell you were getting closer from the tugging on his hair to the stuttered motion of your hips, you were starting to lose all control. Ethan crashed his lips back onto yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth in a messy show of dominance, wanting you to know who was making you feel this good.

“Come on, baby.” His breath was hot against your lips, and you couldn’t wait till he kissed you again. “I know you’re close.”

“Mhmm.” All you could to was whine, the feeling within you getting tighter and tighter the long you grinded on him. It wasn’t until Ethan took his hand from your hip and dipped it into your underwear, rubbing your clit in lazy circles and you feverishly thrusted against him

“Good girl.” He almost laughed at how whiney you were, so different to how mean you are to him in front of your friends. “Let go for me, let everyone know who’s making you feel good, yeah?”

The band within you snapped and you came with a cry on Ethan’s thigh and fingers, their own assault on you never ceasing and he continued to rub your clit and help you move your hips on him, allowing your orgasm to drag out. 

He took in your face, so blissed out in ecstasy, he kissed you hard. You smiled into the kiss, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him closer, not wanting the moment to end. You were scared about what was going to happen when you got off his thigh and left the room; would you two go back to fighting as usual or did this spark some change within him.

“Come back to my dorm?” Ethan’s tone was now nervous and unsure, and yet his demeanour remind confident. “I wanna see you in my bed, naked. Be away from the crowd so you can chant my name.”

Ethan watched your face, waiting for you to say something, anything. He was nervous too that you were going to push him away and act like this was a one time thing, he wanted it to be more, for both of you to be more. Fighting with you was the only way he was able to get your full attention, and so he did it because he had no other choice. But now, knowing that you like him back, he wanted you to be his. 

“Okay.” You looked up at him and touched his lip with your thumb, a soft gesture but it caused him to melt. 

“Yeah?’ His smile was contagious, causing you to grin yourself. 

“Yeah.”